A Lady For His Lordship
by Elizabeth1994
Summary: Beckett/Elizabeth Elizabeth makes the decision to marry Beckett in exchange for her pardon after Will pleads with her to do so. She can live with her decision, but can she live with Beckett?
1. The Decision

Basically my first Beckett story will be a Beckabeth. Wondering how? Well after some of the most unusual circumstances to take place after Beckett says "and what becomes of Miss Swann?'' followed by Jack "What interest is she to you?'' then there is all those little plots and ideas in there, with a cannon shot into where Beckett and Jack are, sadly that cannon or any other cannons were fired…all the pirates are caged up except those who aren't of any use to his lordship; they were executed on the spot.

**Chapter One:** The Decision

**Characters:** Mercer, Beckett, Elizabeth

**Pairing:** Beckett/Elizabeth

**Rating:** For this chapter I think to be safe, a PG is suitable

**Warnings:** None…for this chapter anyway.

**Word Count**: 2222

**Chapter Summary:** Elizabeth finds herself having to negotiate her pardon with Lord Beckett.

Elizabeth Swann sat in a cell aboard the Endeavour all on her lonesome. She sat against the back of her cell crying, with her knees pulled up to her chest, resting her head on her knee. She was filthy from being at sea for so long without a bathe. She had dirt marks all over her and her hair once fine was now like that of straw. She was watching the cell door just across from her, through her hot tears. She was waiting for something, anything. Elizabeth gave up. With her mind jumbled in dreadful thoughts of the day she closed her eyes and before she knew it, she was in a world of dreams. Dreams, little did she know - would soon turn into nightmares.

When Elizabeth woke she was curled up on the cell floor. Her cheek resting on a pillow made of her bare hands. Her eyes opened and closed once more to give her some realization; it wasn't everyday that Elizabeth would find herself sleeping in such a place. She used her hands to push up from the floor and sit upright. She rubbed her eyes. She had her legs stretched out in front of her with a hand rested on each leg. She sighed and took in a deep breath. She had no idea what the world would toss at her next. So many questions wandered about in her mind: _Where are Will and the others? Are Will and the others all right? What is going to happen to me?_

Elizabeth stared down at her hands. She looked at one hand and one finger in particular. She knew that Will and she would never be married now. Maybe she'd never be at all. She bet that she would hang.

*+*+*+*+*+*

All of her life she'd dreamed of a happy marriage, a loving marriage. She had everything in her mind once, a plan for her life with Will. All her plans had since been a thing of the past when Lord Beckett arrested Will and herself on her wedding day. But really, could you call it such? Her thoughts were distracted when she heard footsteps coming her way. She stood. She lent forwards for a better look at who was coming. She saw a medium height man with a hat walk past her cell. The figure stopped and merged from the shadow, she knew his face. Mr. Mercer. He'd been there with Beckett when the he'd arrest them.

"Let's make this quick shall we miss? If you don't try anything we can all be happy. I've come to fetch you for Lord Beckett as he requests your presence.'' the man's dull tone gave away that it was _defiantly_ Mercer.

"I don't wish to see him right now.'' Elizabeth spat in one of her rude tones, arms crossed.

"You don't have a choice.'' his dull tone came again. She heard a click. It was the sound of keys opening her cell. Mercer entered. One hand held keys, the other hand held shackles. She knew that they'd be destined for her wrists.

Elizabeth made her way over to Mercer slowly. She put her hands behind her back and spun around; her back now to Mercer. "Are you going to use those or not?'' oh how she loved playing these little games with anyone and everyone.

Elizabeth felt Mercer's cold hands place the even colder irons over her tiny wrists. "You didn't struggle, good, but very unlike you. The attitude is still their unfortunately.'' At his words he spun her around to face him. He took her right shoulder and pushed her in front of him. Still holding her tight he locked the cell. The whole time he did this Elizabeth kept an expression of frustration on her face.

Mercer pushed her around corridors and corners all over the ship. She was enjoying her rushed tour of no words quite well. They soon came to a set of double doors; they were large and much fancier than the others they'd passed.

Mercer knocked "I have her sir.''

"Excellent send her in.'' a male and very familiar voice came from the other side of the door.

Mercer opened the door and gave Elizabeth a good hard shove into the room before Elizabeth could even think about anything other than _'what the?'_

Mercer tossed the keys across the room to a good catch. The catch caught by Lord Beckett rather smoothly straight into his right palm with a nice fit. Mercer then closed the double doors and stood outside.

Elizabeth didn't speak. She observed. Lord Beckett was dressed in fine noble gents clothes, all the fashion and top of the price range of course. He was wearing a white wig and a smirk from one side of his face to the other. He casually walked over to the door and locked it with a set of keys; this set came from his pocket. Elizabeth felt a slight chill run up her spine at the sound of the door locking. She breathed in and out but making sure that she didn't make it obvious. He walked straight passed her, practically ignoring her to take his seat at his desk.

His Lordship span around in his to face her "Ah, it is nice to see you awake Miss Swann. I trust you slept well?'' he questioned.

"Yes. After all, I was too worn out from thought to even consider that I was sleeping in the brig.'' she said with great pride and a little sarcastic smirk to add the finishing touch.

He gave a short laugh. "Fair enough; I had you brought here for a reason I have you know....'' he said sweeping her body with his icy blue eyes. He noticed what a mess she was so he removed his glance from her and redirected to a map on the wall.

"Really? What reason would that be?'' she asked out of curiosity. It was pretty obvious that he'd had her brought to him for a reason; she just needed to know what that reason was.

"To negotiate your pardon and well being - should I remove those?'' he answered and motioned his hand to her wrists – the shackles.

"Yes. What do you mean by negotiate my pardon?'' she asked with a look of wonder and curiosity giving him direct eye contact with her narrowed eyes.

Beckett made his way over to her, passing her, their eyes not leaving one another for a split second. He took hold of her wrists and unlocked the irons. "As I said you're here to negotiate your pardon. We'll investigate and see what you can do for me,'' he said and once again a chill stuck Elizabeth's spine, leaving her felling rather insecure.

She turned around to face him. He'd already moved to his desk. An alcoholic substance in a large bottle on a tray with two glasses was what he'd gone there for; Elizabeth presumed. Elizabeth was assured when he asked "Port, Miss Swann?''. Elizabeth nodded and said "Yes.'' She sounded very polite for the first time in the conversation. Very polite for someone who hated this man – it was just an act of course.

Beckett filled the two glasses with the Port. He sat the Port bottle down then picked one glass up. He walked over to Elizabeth and she walked over to him. He handed her the glass and she took a sip almost immediately. He walked back over to the desk and sat down. Elizabeth wasn't quite sure what she should do so she remained where she stood.

"Come, sit across from me. It wouldn't be right having you to stand there like that now would it?'' he said with a sip of port.

She looked puzzled for a moment but amazingly enough she sat without any facial expression or sarcastic comment. She sat knowing that if she wanted her pardon she would have to stop the verbal games she played. She sat quietly. She was unsure of what he wanted, but something from deep within told her else wise… it had to be something bad on her accord. He had arrested her and Will on what should have been the happiest day of her life. She hated him and especially stronger now that he'd murdered her father; he'd taken her only close relative away from her. He'd taken everything. What could he possibly want to take now?

"If I can't get you the compass, because I presume you already have it, then what can I do?'' Elizabeth asked with her eyes fixed to his glass of port which was being raised to his mouth.

He took a rather large sip. "Let's see. What kind of person are you? Hmm…you're a young woman, brought up high in society; you must have a good education I can imagine. So what do you think I should gain from you?'' he said all eyes upon her in ready for her reply.

"I'm good with charts and sailing? …and I do like to think that I have a good education,'' she said with her head down looking at the glass of port resting on her leg in her hand. She knew that the ship was huge. He would have to have many people working on it; maybe one more person wouldn't hurt.

"Charts and sailing?'' he laughed. "No place for a woman in my armada if that's what you're suggesting. Oh and I forgot to add, you're a young woman, a young unmarried woman. Let's see I an unmarried man, then you a beautiful, young and unmarried woman. I think that's what you can do for me. Fix _my_, unmarried problem.'' he said coldly with a huge smirk on his face looking directly on her.

"No, I won't! Please not that! You don't want me! Beautiful; Look at me!'' she protested. He wants her. First he takes Will then he takes her father and now he wants to _take_ her.

"If that's what you think than what can you do for me?'' he asked still with an evil grin.

Elizabeth went silent; she tried hard to think of something. All she got was blank.

"So you have nothing? That's a shame.'' he said yet again after some port.

"I don't have anything… What will happen if I refuse?'' she asked. It was if it all went dark sadness had clouded her blue skies with a grim fate for good. She had nothing. She didn't have Will. She didn't have her own father anymore. She had herself and herself alone.

"With no pardon; you'll hang like the others.'' he said smoothly looking at his remaining port.

Elizabeth's heart sank like a ship full of water. She immediately turned her thoughts to Will. All she ever wanted in life was a happy marriage. She wanted to make real of all that romance she read. But here she was; stumped. She could go ahead and _not _marry to become Lady Beckett but if she did that she'd die. Both she and Will would meet the noose, and then they could live happily together in death forever. What if after death never existed? Then dying was a hopeless option. She thought of her other option to become Lady Beckett, he was rich… and handsome somewhat. Elizabeth almost slapped herself at that last though.

"I'm waiting.'' Lord Beckett said leaning forwards to rest his elbows on the desk, hands clasped together.

"Sorry to disappoint! We can't all make split second and hard decisions like you! I'm sorry!'' Elizabeth spat out without even thinking.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. I was implying. I want an answer pardon or no pardon? Simple question, simple yes or no answer, there is nothing difficult about that.'' he tormented her.

"Agh! Fine then! I chose…I-I….I want to see Will before I make my decision.'' she really wasn't thinking when she spat that out.

Beckett stared at her. "Seeing Mr. Turner wasn't an option. Though, if you want to see him again you'll agree to marriage.'' he said giving her a cruel look in the eyes.

She wanted to see Will, if not she might never see him again. She couldn't stand the thought of the last time they'd seen each other. She could easily just make marriage hard for him, yes revenge and Will in one. "Fine, I-I will marry you…'' she said head hung low and mumbled.

His smirk appeared once again, it was even wider this time "Excellent. We are to wed tomorrow in late noon. After all, late noon is close to evening which is very ever so close to night. So close to what happens on the wedding night.'' he said with a manner of all cruelty teasing her decision. "For now you need to get yourself out of that filth. You'll be given your own room. I will take you there after you're done having _final _moments with Mr. Turner,'' he sounded pleased to know that she would be his.

"Tomorrow…'' she whispered her dooms day. He didn't hear her and was sure that even if he did, he wouldn't care.

Still sitting at his desk Beckett shouted "Mercer go fetch Mr. Turner from the brig.''


	2. Entertainment & Play

**Chapter Two:** Entertainment and Play  
**Characters:** Lord Beckett, Mercer, Elizabeth and Will  
**Pairing:** Elizabeth/Beckett  
**Rating:** PG 13, next chapter might be an M or higher so you have been forewarned...  
**Warnings:** Some smooching and descriptions of a sexual kind  
**Word Count:** 2, 354  
**Chapter Summary:** Beckett has plans for Elizabeth and is beginning to realise what he can do to make her do things for him. Will and Elizabeth share some last moments together and our cruel lord find's this rather _entertaining_. Elizabeth begins to play her little game...

Lord Beckett couldn't take his eyes of his latest prize and fine possession. Elizabeth. He recalled all the times he had seen her and what those times had in common. He noticed that every time he'd spoken to her, she had been persistent on her rudeness. He figured that she would have much to learn before she would become his _Lady_ Beckett. He observed the creature that she was; untamed. She wasn't like most of the women that he'd met. Most women would do as they were told with no questions asked, Elizabeth however was very different, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind to a man and stand up for her opinions. Why would she do such a thing? It was as simple as the fact that she liked having her voice heard and most of the time it didn't go ignored. Things are going to become quite a shock to her when she realizes that he won't listen to her little _opinions_. He wouldn't tell her this of course. Instead he would make sure that she'd regret it. This would provide him with a great deal of entertainment.

"Have you never seen a woman before or something?'' Elizabeth asked with all her rudeness, interrupting his train of thought. The fact was that he'd been staring at her the whole time.

"No. I have seen women before. Those women knew there place. Unlike you,'' He spoke with his eyes still upon her. She was standing arms crossed with a look of annoyance about her.

"If we were all the same life would be rather boring wouldn't it?'' She said knowing that what she was saying was true. She also knew what he was trying to get through to her; her attitude problem. The attitude she played upon him was her pure hatred. She couldn't resist but to do it for annoyance towards him, it was _her_ entertainment.

"You make a point. Though, I'm suggesting that your attitude needs an adjustment to _my_ liking,'' He said then began moving over to her, slowly.

She wasn't sure what to say next. She unfolded her arms. Her arms now rested beside her in a relaxed way. Beckett walked over to her left side; she had her eyes following him till she would have to turn her head to see. He disappeared behind her. She moved her sight range over to her right. He had circled her to end up in her sight once again. He stopped in front of her. Eyes met with the words 'war declaration' hanging above them. Her arms and hands once relaxed, now found themselves tensed. She was clearly in an uncomfortable situation. He on the other hand was relaxed, very relaxed; too relaxed for Elizabeth liking.

He grabbed her wrists with his hands. He pulled her close to him quickly. She looked up at him. She was sure on what he was going to do to her next. She tried to escape from his grip but as she tried he only tightened his grip on her, it hurt. Her head now lay at his chest as he was the one to place it so. He whispers into her ear "Don't struggle. Do as you're told, no questions and I won't hurt you as often. Behave, fix your attitude otherwise you're only going to make this harder for yourself,'' She whimpers her response "Hurt me as often?''

He pushes her away with the grip he has on her wrists. Still holding her wrists he says narrowing his eyes upon her "I have already warned you. No questions and especially stupid ones as such. Consider that your final warning,'' he lets her wrists fall beside her. Something about what he was saying really spooked her and it took a fair bit to spook Elizabeth Swann. She had seen immortal, supernatural so why was she scared of him?

She was more confused than ever now. When he was pulling her close she thought that he was doing so to kiss her, not to tell her something like that. Then again who would want to kiss her in the state she was in? She looked filthy and smelt like sea water.

Elizabeth opened her mouth but no words came. She closed her mouth when she heard footsteps coming from outside in the hall way. She was immediate to jump to the conclusion that it was Mercer returning with Will. When she turned to the door to see Mercer and Will enter, not only had this confirmed her assumption but this also made her heart leap with joy.

"Elizabeth." Will said with a soft tone in a slight whisper. She took in the sight of his soft eyes. Her heart was now pounding with excitement. Elizabeth moved over towards him with a rapid pace. She placed her arms around him, lent her head upwards and kissed him under his jaw line; she had released her excitement on him with her kiss. Beckett watched his untamed beast in this scene, he was observing her in her natural lovingness towards Will, he seen how tame she became when in Will's arms. Beckett released now that he wanted her lips on himself in the near future more than ever. The near future wasn't nearing fast enough.

Beckett motioned Mercer to release Mr. Turner from his irons. Mercer did as commanded and removed the irons then stood in the corner waiting for his next instruction. Will moved his free arms around Elizabeth and stroked her, holding her tight against him. Elizabeth couldn't resist the temptation much longer. Their lips met again. As quick as they met, they found themselves parted. He would kiss her in any; way, shape or form. He loved her. He was the only one besides Jack who would want to kiss her in this state. Jack… because he'd probably kiss anything.

This wasn't love for Elizabeth. This was her saying goodbye

Beckett moved over to Mercer in the corner and asked him to wait outside till he would ask for the return of Will to his cell. After Mercer took his place outside Beckett took his own place behind the desk and once again he began to observe his prize. "Tell him the news. I'm not going to give you forever.'' Beckett said toying with the lace at his sleeves in a manner of all arrogance, usual form in other means.

Elizabeth stepped back a few steps from Will and turned to face the wall. She was hiding her facial expression - the expression of sadness. She held back the tears and took up some courage and turned around to face Will. She saw that Will looked very confused. "What news, Elizabeth?'' he asked with his eyes meting hers slightly.

She moves one arm across her torso and with that arm she holds the other on her side. She breaks the eye contact and looks to the floor boards. "I'm so sorry Will. Beckett made me an offer, and I have accepted it in order to see you this…final time. I wanted to see you and apologize for everything that I have ever done, in doing so I am to marry Beckett tomorrow. I'm sorry,'' she tightened her grip on her arm. Her courage had failed her and she began to feel tears run down her face.

Will was slow to take in the moment. He looked to Beckett with anger, and then turned to Elizabeth who now had her tears hitting the floor boards. He took her shoulders. She looked up slowly. He told her in a soft tone "There is no need for your apology. You go ahead and marry Beckett, live Elizabeth; you're not fit for death for many years to come. You wouldn't and don't deserve the noose. It's my fault that all this happened and I should be the one to say sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you into piracy and all this mess with Jack.'' he said this slowly and whipping away her tears with his thumbs.

Beckett looked on at the scene. He noted how gentle he was with her; he also noted that being harsh would be an easy way to break her and her attitude problem or any other problem at that.

Elizabeth let out a whimpering cry and forced herself to Will's chest like paper and glue. Will stroked her hair, and though this was a little difficult due to the tangles, he kept doing so as it was comforting her. He slowly rocked her like a baby and told her "I love you so much Elizabeth. Even now that you have to live with Beckett for the rest of your life, I still love you and I don't want you to ever forget that. I have done everything that I can to save you from death, now it's your turn to prevent your death on your own, you made the right decision.''

Over behind his desk Beckett quietly repeated a part of what he had heard Will say "Even now that you have to live with Beckett,'' he then quietly added a short laugh then even quieter said to himself "The man most certainly knows that I'm going to hurt his dearest sooner or later.''

The couple didn't hear a word of what Beckett was saying to himself, it was as if they were in a world on their own. "Oh Will, that's so sweet of-of you, and it's not entirely your fault.'' she barely managed to say without a sob as she looked up. Her watery eyes met his soft ones. She raised her arms to cup his face with a gentle embrace; she leant forward and kissed him deeply. They both wanted their kiss to last for eternity but sadly they couldn't hold their breath for that long. They came up for air and released the hold they had on one another.

Beckett rose from his chair and stood in front of it. He clapped his hands together three times, and received immediate looks from Will and Elizabeth. "That was slightly more entertaining then what I thought it would be, bravo,'' he said still clapping his hands with long gaps between each clap.

"Argh! You're sick, real sick!'' Elizabeth said wiping away some of her tears. Will didn't say anything; he just stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders giving Beckett a venomous glare from over her.

"Hmm is that the best that you can do? Though, once again I am entertained. I also think your time is up here Mr. Turner.''

Will turned Elizabeth around and gave her one last, long and loving kiss. She felt loved to limit and she moaned to let him know this. She had been kissed by him before a great deal of times, this time was different, this time was to be there last passionate moment, this time she felt that passion release its self from her body with something she had never felt it do before; it wanted more. More of which she could not have. For the first time with Will she finally felt lust, it had never been inside her with such strong intensions before, she had always kept it down to prevent her from losing her virginity too early. The lust was her friend and yet it was her enemy. It tortured her at the time that was most hard for her. She didn't want lust to happen ever again, something so good and yet so evil was taken from her at that final kiss. It wasn't the only thing to be taken from her; she wanted Will to kiss her forever so he wouldn't have to go.

Elizabeth stood frozen when Will slowly parted from her mouth. Beckett called for Mercer to take Will back to his cell. She watched Will, taking in all the details that made Will who he was, thing's like his personality and voice, she took in every little detail such as colour of his eyes and hair even the way he smelt and smiled. Smiled, he smiled at her? "Goodbye, Elizabeth'' Will said as Mercer placed him back in irons. Her courage failed her again and tears starting balling from her eyes like there was no tomorrow "G-Goodbye Will…and I won't forget you, I won't forget you!'' it was an upset plea, one last plea for Will. Elizabeth fell to her knees on the floor and wept.

"Get up and stop sobbing, you'll ruin the polish.'' he said giving her gentle nudge with his boot meeting one of her legs.

She stood and wiped her eyes so that she could see. "It's only polish, it's easily replaced, Will isn't like polish he is irreplaceable.''

He didn't say anything instead he grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him. "So maybe you should be the one to replace it?'' he asked raising his voice.

"No, no, I-I can stop crying now.'' she was now scared and upset; the last thing she needed to do was polish a floor. She wiped away some more tears and fought to keep anymore from coming.

"Good. Now to fix you up and make you look presentable. Tonight you're dining with me and regardless to any protests. Am I making myself clear Miss Swann?'' he wasn't really asking, it may as well have been a rhetorical question.

"Yes.'' she nodded.

"One more thing before we go. You're to call me 'sir' or 'my lord' when you're asked to answer a question or when you speak to me.'' he said with all arrogance and demand bundled into his tone at once.

She had always hated the way she had to call someone 'sir' and now she had to call Lord Beckett 'sir' or 'my lord', it was horrible. It sounded awful in her mind. She would have to do as told but the way she did such wasn't mentioned was it? Elizabeth smirked and opened her mouth wide and spoke "Yes my lord,'' in a way of mockery. She could now play her little game but he could also play his.


	3. Dinner Frustrations

Chapter Three:** Dinner Frustrations**

**Characters: **Lord Beckett and Elizabeth Swann

**Pairing: **Elizabeth/Beckett

**Rating: **M. Yes that's right, I wrote a smut! First to be put in a story, but not my actual first...*whistles, turning away* hehe

**Warnings: **Sexual play at the table.

**Word Count: **2,891

**Chapter Summary: **Beckett Is very pleased with the way Elizabeth looks, and is still not pleased with her attitude. Attitude isn't something that he will tolerate and Elizabeth's actions wont go without consequence. Dinner with a surprise quest and smut!

Disclaimer: POTC and it's characters are not mine, I just like to write them = ]

**Note: **This would have been up quicker but I had to write an essay on WWI and Gallipoli though it was very interesting. Had some computer troubles when sending for an edit. Stupid Microsoft Works Word Processor *mumbles* Researching this was fun, 18th century clothing and hair care was very interesting, they didn't have much shampoo or any at all, talk about gross. I'm glad I have my shampoo and daily showers.

_Dinner Frustrations_

Elizabeth lay her head back, her hair fanning across the snowy white pillow. She heaved a sigh as she recalled the day's past events, and although they were quite boring, they gave her something to do whilst waiting for Lord Beckett to return and fetch her for dinner. Well, it was either him or Mercer. He had been gone quite a long time, but it was not like she missed him or anything. She turned her thoughts to the conversation which she had had earlier with Beckett when he first introduced her to her room…

"_Don't bother changing until you're clean. There are some clothes in the wardrobe and chest, find something that makes you look somewhat decent for now. As for tonight, I will assign something for you,''_ he'd said, then motioned his left hand towards a bath.

"_You're not going to watc-''_ she'd asked, looking down at her body in a way that had made her look shy and scared.

"_No,'' _he'd answered. _"I will return, or send for someone nearer to dinner. When you're ready and waiting feel free to do whatever you like with the possessions in here. Clearly this isn't much,'' _he had said, inspecting some dust on top of a book case, filthy. He had then rubbed his index finger against his thumb and the dust had fallen to the floor.

"_Yes, sir," _she'd said, with that tone of mockery in her voice.

"_Oh,'' _he'd said, turning from the door to face her. "_I know there isn't much in here, but please, try not to break anything or make a mess,''_ he'd spoken down to her like she was some child.

He hadn't waited to hear her response, he didn't want to hear it. He opened the door and locked it behind him quickly, then the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway.

That was the last she had heard of or seen of him. Since then she had bathed and dressed, and was now sitting around waiting for him. She recited in her mind what he had meant when he said, 'Clearly this isn't much.' He'd most likely given her the one of the worst rooms on the whole ship. It was small, ugly and not much light. She then thought that there had to be something she could do to pass the time.

She sat up. The time was marked by an extremely well made clock on the wall opposite the bed. With gold markings in swirls, something from somewhere far away no doubt, China, India, she wouldn't have a clue, it was just pretty to look at. It read 7:30pm in roman numerals. This meant it had been five or so long and boring hours since she had any word from her fiancé - if you could call Lord Beckett that.

Her stomach growled for something to slide down her throat sometime soon. It had been at least two days since she'd eaten, and the signs of this were clear: her stomach was aching and her skin looked something of the colour yellow, it wasn't that she hadn't bathed, she was definitely starved. The cream dress patterned with blue florals that she was wearing made a swishing sound as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. A single bed, hard like a rock, but beating the floor when it came to comfort any day.

She stood and moved over to the mahogany vanity. It looked ancient, and needed a new coat of paint. She dragged the chair backwards and sat. She removed a piece of hair from her face, pushing it behind her ear. Elizabeth being the bored and curios woman that she was, just had to open the draws of the vanity to see what was kept in them. She hoped for something to pass the time, a book perhaps. She pulled open the top left drawer - nothing - it was empty, excluding the amount of dust of course. She opened the bottom left drawer, but it was empty, again. She moved the chair back a little and opened the long middle drawer, and as luck would have it there was a quill and some ink hiding inside towards the back. She took them out and placed them on the desk in front of her. She had her right hand on the right top drawer, it looked more used with scratched all over. She pulled at it harder than she had with the other drawers. It clunked open, showering splinters fell to her lap. She brushed them off and used her feet to kick them to the back of the vanity and out of site. Inside the drawer she found a grey, leather covered book - nothing pretty to look at - also, some more quills, powdered make up - which didn't look at all inviting - a face towel, and some other pots of old make up. She carefully took out the book, realising as she held it that it wasn't grey at all, it was black, but covered in dust. She blew and wiped the dust off, then sat it in front of her. She opened the last drawer and once again, nothing but dust.

She opened the book, hoping for a good read, something to fuel her imagination. Instead, she found herself quite disappointed when she opened to the first page only to find that it was blank. She then flicked through it to see if it was just that page, but sadly they were all just blank pages. The book wasn't of course a small or large book it was something you might call just bigger than small, but not small enough to hide in the common pocket. There was a bookcase where she could find a book, but it was filled with political junk nothing of interest to her and she certainly wasn't very keen on reading anything Shakespeare, she had his books once and found them quite loveable, she wasn't in the mood for sad romance, she had that in her own life she didn't need to read about that of the made up.

Then it struck her. She remembered that she had always wanted to start a diary before she got married and throughout her married life, to use it as something to look back at when she was older. The diary she had started for Will and herself to look into was at home, gone, something of the past. Even if she did get her hands on that diary she wouldn't want to read all the hopes and dreams that she had wanted to fulfil in her life with Will, it would only make her cry water like a fountain.

She had everything she needed to get started sitting on the desk in front of her. She opened the book to its third page. This was safer than having it on page one and still left plenty of room. She unscrewed the lid of the ink pot and dipped the end of a quill into it. She began scratching away - an introduction about who the diary belonged to. She planned that later in the evening she would write in the day's events.

Later wouldn't be tomorrow, tomorrow she would be wed… wedding, marriage, matrimony, wedding nights… wedding beds. Those things were once things she had looked forward to, dreamt about. Now, they were the things of nightmares, nightmares which she had consented herself to.

As she wrote out her life, she felt a relieved feeling come over her. It was as if writing down her problems and telling them for what they truly were was boosting her self esteem. She also wrote of the good in her life. Her mind was bringing back many memories; her father, the great times she had with Will, her debutante ball and many other things too, like her secret fascinations with pirates, reading her pirate novels at night before she went to sleep.

Her esteem dropped again when she realised that the things she had enjoyed in life, anything that made her even the slightest bit happy, were now going to have much less chance of appearing as often or ever again, with Beckett over her shoulder to edge on the less fortunate events.

She put effort into what she wrote, being careful not to miss any details. She even wrote about her favourite foods, books and colours; the small things.

Time had passed when she next turned to the clock to see it was 8:15pm. She figured that someone would come and get her, or give her that assigned piece of clothing pretty soon and she certainly didn't want them to see her diary. She hid it in the bedside cabinet drawer, and put the ink and quill back into the long middle drawer of the vanity. She made her place at the vanity, so that if she heard someone coming she could pretend to admire herself. Indeed, she looked better than she had done before her bath and change of clothes. Though, her stomach did remind her that she wanted something to eat, the growl was twice as loud as it had been previously. She sat up straight and played with her hair.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Then she heard keys, and before she realised, the door was creaking open.

"Ah, you look much better," Beckett said, as he made his way over to the vanity, standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders he continued. "That makes you look quite the temptation, the colour suits you well, therefore, I don't think you're going to need the assigned clothing."

"Must be tempting if you want me to keep it on," she smirked.

"Not really, it makes me tempted to see you wear it with that nice low neckline, so I now want remove it," he whispered in her ear, and a chill similar to the one she had felt earlier that day run through her spine again.

"Tonight? But I though-" she said, an alarmed expression painted instantly on her face.

He whispered once more, this time making a tighter grip on her shoulders. "Oh I wouldn't do that, after all that's what tomorrow night is for, though, I could just remove some of it, say enough to please the wandering eye." He moved one hand to her collar bone, then ran it down until it met with the material that hid the rest of her breasts. "But later, of course. Now come, you must be starved."

She stood and faced him. With a quick fix of her skirts she said, "Must I be starved because you intended it so? Not once did I get fed in the brig or offered while I waited in here."

He gave a short chuckle as he held the door open, offering her a hand - though with the glance he gave her, it was clear it was more like a demand. "You catch on quicker than I had expected."

He took her hand and pulled her close. Skilfully, he kept hold of her and shut the door - he didn't lock it this time.

As he dragged her along behind him she rolled her eyes, ensuring that he didn't see her to save herself from the possibility of a boring lecture in a tease of words.

It wasn't long until he slowed and she came almost beside him. "You try anything and you'll regret it, understand?" he said, after he had stopped and turned to face her in front of a pair of doors.

"Yes sir," she said, making no eye contact, looking instead at the glass upon the door and the candlelight dancing across it from either side.

He opened the door and motioned for her to go through. She gazed around the room. It was fairly big, scattered candles alight, book cases, maps and paintings all over the walls. She turned her attention to the middle of the room, to a table, set for dinner with candles food sitting on platters. Beneath the table was a rug, a red and brown rug full of intricate patterns she couldn't make out. The food on the table looked delicious.

He motioned to where she should sit, then took his seat at the head of the table. She took the seat to his left. She wondered who else would be joining them as there was another place set across from her. "Who will be joining us?" she asked.

"You'll see when he arrives," Beckett said moving his chair in closer.

"Mind if I take one little piece of bread now, please, milord?" she asked, pleading from her empty stomach.

"Since you asked nicely, yes, you may," he said passing her a piece.

She held it to her mouth and took a bite, chewed it, then swallowed. She repeated this process twice more, then stopped to look at Beckett. She felt something messing with her skirts, and Beckett's hands weren't in sight. "What are you-"

"Shush, and do as your told with or without words," he interrupted.

Though unsure of what he was doing, she nodded her head. "Yes sir."

He lifted up her skirts, leaving them to rest on her thighs. His hands however were no longer upon her. She felt fabric move up to the front of her knees, the pressure there making her legs spread apart. It was Beckett's leg, and as he pushed onwards, her legs fell wider apart to allow him room.

She was scared now that she knew what he was going to do.

His knee cap pushed between her thighs, it hurt, but something about it felt nice, just a hint, but nothing to excite her. He pressed harder, and this time, although hurt more, it felt nicer. Gradually, the pain disappeared, and it became enjoyable. She felt something rush through her, something… no, she didn't want him to make her feel that good, she wanted more, but she didn't want more.

"Nice isn't it?" he asked, pushing even harder.

She felt a slight moan run up her throat, and tried to fight it but failed miserably. Unsure whether colour was running from or rushing to her face she said, "Y-yes,'' and looked down to where her skirts were piled over her thighs, thinking about what he was doing, and feeling that small gush of fluid her body had longed to release and that she had tried so hard to prevent.

"Good girl," he said, praising her and stroking her face. "Now tell me, do you think you can hold down your frustration while in the presence of another?" he continued.

"What-wait, you mean you're going to keep doing…_that_, while the other person is here?" she said, alarmed.

"I ask the questions. I thought you were catching on, I guess not," he said, finishing his teasing stroke at her breasts. He took her hand and placed it on the table, holding it within his. "Though if I have really confused you, the answer is yes," he said, with a grin and a quick glance at the exposed flesh of her breasts.

"I-I don't think I can," she replied, watching his hand with a slight pout.

"Well, there goes a rather pleasing evening for me. Because, if I, make your satisfaction obvious it won't just be you with the name to shame. Though, we can easy work on such things. No, I think I will continue… consider this as training,"

"If you want to train something, get a dog," she spat, her eyes wide. She felt insulted.

"I don't need a dog, I already have one and she is quite the bitch," he said. He then pressed extremely hard against her region and squeezed her hand tight. He could see the pain crossing with the pleasure in her eyes. As he pushed on, the push came to feel not good at all, it just hurt.

"Sorry, please stop you're hurting my.." she pleaded.

He pushed up even higher and stronger against her region then moved his leg back to sit in his chair much more relaxed. However, he hadn't let go of her hand. "I only stopped doing that because I want it to hurt tomorrow night more than tonight," he said, being cold and cruel as ever, only then did he let go of her hand.

Elizabeth stood and let her skirts fall, tided them and then took her seat again. She'd felt more hot release run all over the hidden places in her region, when she'd stood and the thought was nice. She set her sore hand in her lap and held it with the other. She looked down at it, showing some sympathy for its pain. Then again, it wasn't the only part of her body to have felt his Lordship's strength.

She thought about him, he didn't look as tough as he really was, she would have to be much more careful now, she didn't want her body to go through that very often. Would her body go through that often? Only time could tell.

Her thoughts were interrupted with a knock on the door. She turned her head.

"Come in," Lord Beckett said, straightening his chair.

Elizabeth's jaw dropped and her heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be, but it was.

"James?"

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**People are adding this to favourites and updates and not commenting. What I'm really looking for is a comment/review. More soon = ]**


	4. Training

Characters: Beckett, Elizabeth, James and mentions of Mercer  
Rating: M, but it could be higher. You've been warned.  
Warnings: See rating, sexual content, smut and my twisted minds workings.  
Pre warning: Thing is going to be a whole lot more erotica from here on in. You've been for warned.  
Summary: Takes off after the last chapter. Elizabeth finds dinner with Lord Beckett both pleasurable and pretty awful. Elizabeth looks back at her_ foolishness._

Notes:I know some of you have been hanging on for more so here it is! Chapter four! Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming! I do appreciate criticism and comments so please aim and fire - one purpose of fanfiction!

Training

Since James Norrington was still standing across the room by the door, it meant that he couldn't possibly have heard the demanding whisper Lord Beckett made to Elizabeth Swann.

"Lift your skirts up and bring your chair in closer, this is where your training begins. Behave," He said, leaning in closer to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth certainly didn't want to, but she feared he'd hurt her if she didn't 'complete her _training'_ with flying colours or at all. She hadn't eaten yet so she was quite weak - not strong enough fight back if she needed to, or if and when she disobeyed. Therefore she pulled her chair in and lifted her skirts to her thighs, but only doing so after James took his seat. She'd obeyed. If she messed this up, James would find out about her and Lord Beckett's behavior under the table, and God knows what would go through his mind if he did. She used her fear of not knowing how Beckett would punish her to keep herself - well, to _try_ to keep herself form doing or saying anything out of line.

Beckett sent her a rather pleased smile when he noticed she'd obeyed. It most certainly would've been the first time she'd seen him smile - it definitely wasn't a smirk this time. But of course he wouldn't smirk; it would hint James to the obvious if he did…

"My apologies for my lateness sir,'' James apologized, like the fine gentlemen he was and always had been.

This was when James decided to ask about the presence of Elizabeth, who, by the way looked rather shocked to see him. He'd thought that if Elizabeth was on the ship that she'd in the brig for sure, but seeing her sitting across from him and dining with his Commander compelled him to say something. He knew about the capture of the pirates, and this was what fueled him to ask.

"My Lord, if I may – why is Elizabeth here and not-"

"Elizabeth is here because I desire her presence. I gave her a rather dull room, so I thought she might find this better than sitting about daydreaming or whatever it was that she was doing in there,'' Beckett interrupted.

James seemed confused. "Elizabeth has a room? So she isn't a prisoner then?"

'_I may as well be one. I feel like one.' _Elizabeth thought to herself. She could've said it aloud, but she knew to keep such comments to herself.

"Elizabeth is no prisoner. She belongs to me and the brig is no place for something of _mine_," Beckett answered. He noticed the Admiral's increasingly confused look, and decided that he should explain what he originally thought James would have already known. "I thought that word would have made its way around to you by now, but it seems that's not so. You see, Elizabeth is to be my bride tomorrow, my wife for the many days that follow. Till death, do us part, isn't that right Elizabeth?" his smirk was there now, not a smile this time that was for sure. The smirking Lord had played his expression upon not just Elizabeth, but James as well.

Lord Beckett knew all about the newly appointed Admiral's past feelings for Elizabeth and his engagement to her. But what he wanted to know now was: does he still have any feelings for her? If so, he could force Elizabeth to see how if she'd married James as planned and _not_ helped Will save Jack Sparrow from the noose, then she wouldn't be getting married to him tomorrow.

Elizabeth gritted her teeth before answering with fake politeness "Yes," she replied. She'd smiled afterwards, seemingly appearing to be quite the actress.

"Elizabeth is to be your wife, why? It's a little…_sudden_," James asked with a somewhat jealous feeling overcoming him. He'd suffered that feeling many times before. The worst when Elizabeth jilted him for Will. But it wasn't just the jealousy of Will. He couldn't help but hate the fact that, she, a well educated young lady wanted to marry a blacksmith over a trusted Commodore of the British Royal Navy. And now he felt jealous, foolish and upset knowing that his Commander was sitting him through the torment of knowing the woman he still loved would now belong to him. She would become Lady Beckett, not Mrs. Norrington as he hoped she'd become. Was it foolish of him to still love her? He dreamt about her, even when he thought she was dead. Though there was a hint of anger somewhere lurking inside of him at the fact that the woman he loved would never become his wife, or the wife of a man who actually loved her. Instead she would become another of Lord Beckett's possessions. James knew Beckett was cruel to his men; he was bound to treat Elizabeth even worse. James also knew that at least with Will she would've been known and loved, but now she would be with a man who barely even knew her.

"Yes, she's to be _my _wife in order to gain her pardon," Beckett replied - proudly. Oh he knew that James would be frustrated to see yet another man taking is dear Elizabeth away from him. But this was just all another way of breaking Elizabeth. _'Getting her to realize that she wouldn't be marrying me if she'd married Mr. Norrington; later I'm sure she'll see it and I'm sure she'll regret her foolishness'_

"Oh, I see," James replied, forcing himself to understand.

"You know Admiral; I think Elizabeth must've forgotten something when she acquiesced to my little agreement. I think she's forgotten that she may be the one to gain, but I'm one to take – take something which she should have long lost by now. Am I correct Elizabeth?"

"No, I didn't forget," Elizabeth replied. Her answer was polite and full of demure, but her thoughts raced. _'Take something she should have long lost by now…' _ She wasn't sure, but something in her gut told her she knew what her fiancée meant. "You'll take my…my… my Lord, do you mean my-" she stuttered.

"If you have a guess, I would very much like to hear it," Beckett teased.

"Very well,'' she said, glancing sideways to James and feeling guilty because once, he might have been the one too… "Take my maidenhead. You're going to take it and enjoy doing so." Her guilt made her say this with bitter self sympathy, and sympathy for her past fiancée who was there to hear it.

Her maidenhead, her maidenhood, her virginity – whatever you liked to call it – she knew Lord Beckett would enjoy taking it, but it felt strange to actually say it out loud. It wasn't the only thing that felt strange. Supposedly Beckett was going to give her a hint; he was moving his hand betwixt her thighs and to their joining – to that secret place of building desire, wet and striving to be hidden. She wanted to be pleasured, but just as before, she didn't want it to show... Oh my! With her previous fiancée present it made her feel a hundred times worse.

He gently and smoothly ran his index finger across her ready stimulated clitoris through her under garment. The soft feel of the cotton and the outline of her stimulation and the wire like hairs are instantly pleasing to both him and her. Elizabeth tried not to gasp at the sudden new pleasure; but that didn't mean it would be removed from her thoughts. She'd never heard of such a thing like what he was doing. It was new to her and with all new things would come the curiosity to see what they could do...

Elizabeth looks at James_. 'Wait… could Beckett have invited James to join us to make me see that…I should've let Jack hang and none of this would be happening and I would be married to...James..' _Elizabeth figured it out, though she had no idea that was what her _latest_ fiancée was up to. She'd always been a fan of truth hurts and tough love, but this was just ridiculous! She ground her teeth hard, only stopping when it began to hurt too much; she didn't want a chipped tooth.

"Ah, and yet you still agreed," Beckett brushed Elizabeth's warm aperture clumsily as he spoke – trying to get the Admiral not to suspect was tougher then he'd thought. "Marriage is the perfect course for such intimate intentions with a woman, wouldn't you agree Admiral?"

He continues to smooth over his possession, making a quick switch to use his thumb – running it in a slow circular movement around the end of her clit. Gradually he added more pressure – more pleasure. Elizabeth felt the need to moan but held it back with her attempted innocent glares across the table to James. Beckett's knee cap had excited her but this was much more sensitive because it was aimed just in the right spot. She'd never imagined gaining a pleasurable feeling like _this_. No…she didn't want this. Her mind told her not to want it but her body gave in too easily – just as Beckett wanted it too.

"Yes, I suppose it is," James said glancing at Elizabeth before looking down to his empty plate. He briefly looked at her again – curious to see if she realized that he still wanted her, but he had always found it hard to look her in the eyes - her beautiful eyes.

Elizabeth notices his glace but doesn't take it at all seriously – she's too worried about what Beckett's doing. His smooth caress on Elizabeth became harsher now. She became tense with worry – she had to hold back her groans of want. This was tough for her. The physical feel mixed with the mental wasn't doing her any favors.

She thought about how much more pleasurable it would've felt if he'd done his embrace on the inside of her undergarment or better with no undergarment at all – she could think of adulterated possibilities all night if she wanted too, but there is a time and place for everything – now just wasn't the time. She knew she would have to fight to get rid of the mental representation of her thoughts or else she'd lose to Beckett and she couldn't – wouldn't- let that happen. It was a tough battle. The image that had been horrible to her at her first glance was like all good art; the second glace is the approved one. She had to keep fighting it off. She concluded that it was better not to think with such impurity and that if he'd done any of her impure thoughts his sticky fingers when they'd eventually surfaced on the table would've given all the under the table occurrences away as if it were an in person confession.

He still rubbed at her as she throbbed for more, making sure James didn't notice a thing whilst keeping an eye on Elizabeth.

That want to moan was becoming more like a need – a desire. Eventually, her mind gave in and she became less tense – more allowing, slightly more aroused. Any more arousal and she'd explode into not just one moan but many. She wanted this to end now. In her married life to Beckett she was sure she'd have many, many more pleasures as such, so losing this one now wouldn't do much damage to that expectation.

"Look, can we eat-" Elizabeth began, trying hard to change the subject. But of course she was starving too.

"Yes, Elizabeth, you may eat now sweet, that is, after you say grace," Beckett interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. He smirked as he waited for her to begin grace. He still had his thumb and now fingers against her place of climax – but he slowed his pace and finally, he eased the pressure and pulled her skirts down for her. Her training was complete - in this subject at least.

"I-I can't remember how to begin, maybe you should do it. And don't call me 'sweet,'" she snapped with a sarcastic smile. _Sweet…how dare he call me that! At lease he stopped doing that, any longer and I-I, wouldn't have been able to keep _it_ down…I'm glad he stopped when he did. Did he see my plea and its reason?_

"You've been away from civilization for far too long. I'll start grace and when we get back to Port Royal I must have someone to revise your etiquette…amongst other things. And I, _sweet_, shall call you whatever I please." He thought that she would've at least remembered how to say grace, but he wasn't entirely banking on it.

After grace was said, Elizabeth was first to reach for the platters of food. There was everything, from sea food to vegetables and pork roast amongst the platters. Even a bottle of what appeared to be red wine. James and Beckett joined in and started to pile food onto their plates. Elizabeth was looking forward to eating, it all looked so good. She never would've thought that she'd be so happy to see and eat food. When one has something for a long time, then it fades or goes away, this is when the person becomes thankful. Elizabeth was pampered by her father, sometimes even too pampered; like that dress her father had brought her for the-then-Commodore Norrington's promotion ceremony. It was that dress combined with that single piece of Aztec gold that would change her life forever. If only she'd known that then, she would never have put the medallion on that morning. She knew her life would never be the same from the moment they set sail on the _Dauntless_ back to Port Royal, but she hadn't expected anything like what was in store for her right now. For God's sake she was marring Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company tomorrow, and she'd only met him less than five months ago, it was crazy, like a _never ending nightmare_.

When dinner was almost finished, Lord Beckett turned to James after pouring a glass of the red wine for his self and Elizabeth. "Wine, Mr. Norrington?"

'_At least he considered asking you...' _Elizabeth mused_. _Beckett had already poured her a glass without considering asking.

"Might I just ask - and I know this may seem strange and I probably should've mentioned it earlier, but… I think I'll make the wedding as traditional as possible, and for that I need a best man. Would you do me the honor, Admiral? I could have Mercer do it but it just wouldn't look right, and Groves is too busy for such."

Unlike Elizabeth, James chose his words carefully before speaking. He was either thinking it through or it was just a silence or a pause of surprise due to the unexpected. James surely wasn't a _good_ friend of Beckett's so why would he ask him to be his best man? James was a smart man and knew that Beckett would probably make much ado later if he passed up the 'honor' as his Commander had called it, to be his best man.

"I suppose I can, sir." James answered with a grin. He was almost immediate to think thoughts of regret, but he couldn't change his mind now.

"Excellent," Lord Beckett said brightly before reaching for his glass of wine. He raised it. Elizabeth had attended enough of her father's mostly dull parties to realize that Beckett was proposing a toast, and of course James having attended most of the time with her; had realized the same. "Here's hope for a wonderful wedding ceremony," he said, shortly after Elizabeth and James had raised their glasses. Elizabeth of course was a lot less enthusiastic and Beckett didn't let this go unseen. With the last smirk on his face for the evening that Elizabeth would see; he dismissed the Admiral and commanded that Mercer was to take Elizabeth back to her room. "I'll see you tomorrow, sweet," he said.

After Elizabeth was roughly escorted back to her room she sat down at her vanity after making the short trip over to her bedside cabinet. She could call the furniture and objects in the room _hers_, for now at least. She'd taken out her diary and now with a quill and the ink jar out she began to write.

_Dear Diary,_

_Dining with Lord Beckett couldn't have been any worse. The only things that I enjoyed tonight would've been the food and seeing James…alive. He's no longer Commodore James Norrington; Beckett's seen fit to give him the promotion to Admiral. It's good to see James is getting at least some of what he deserves. He should have me. Mrs. Elizabeth Norrington had always been a fantasy that I'd enjoy. That's all it is and all it will ever be – a fantasy – because of my own actions._

_I feel foolish. I saw something in James tonight, something that I wish I'd seen a long time ago. The way that he looked at me from across the table; it made me see that he might love me. Realizing only now hurts. I honestly thought he wanted to marry me merely because we'd be a smart match. We'd always been friends but having him propose in the way that he did, was unexpected. I never gave much thought into seeing James as a possible lover. I can recall some awkward gazes he gave me from across the room at my debutante and other occasions, but I always thought James was just a shy and quiet person. I keep having 'what if' thoughts._

_While waiting for James to arrive Beckett pushed hard at my region with his knee cap and later on while James was present he felt me in the same place with his fingers. It was a satisfying sensation but I shouldn't have enjoyed it. It makes me feel terrible knowing that Will never had the chance to do something like that with me. I remember lying in bed on the night before the wedding thinking about losing my virginity to Will; it would've been romantic. I doubt doing the same with Beckett will be anywhere near as pleasurable – for me anyway._

_Beckett asked James to be his best man and he accepted. This made me feel awful. I hope that one day James will actually be the groom. What James wouldn't give to be the one to kiss me; the bride._

_It's getting dark in here and the candle is just about to go out. I can't see what I'm doing very well so I think I'll just go to bed. I might as well enjoy some of my final moments of freedom with a good dream; but nothing to full of hope. I don't think I'll dream. Dreams are good and by the rate that my happiness is depleting I doubt I'm going to get anything good coming for me._

She put the quill and ink back into the middle drawer of her vanity, and the put her diary back into the bedside cabinet. She moved over to the wardrobe and found something to wear to bed. She was just dying to get out of her stays! She undressed and changed into her new night time attire, it was a bit big but it was better than having to wear something constraining like a corset. She lay back onto her rock hard bed with the soft pillows, and wept out all the regret she had for her decision to assist with Will in the rescuing of Jack Sparrow. If she hadn't have done what she'd done maybe Will could still be her friend when she'd married and became Mrs. Norrington. There were endless possibilities.

It was easier to have upsetting and regretful thoughts when she was alone, because no one could stop her from losing her train of thought. And it's easier to cry when you don't have to worry about anyone seeing you.

Elizabeth cried herself to sleep that night.


	5. Nightmare Turn Reality

**Sorry about the slow update. I thought it would be a quick one, turns out my life sucks. The next update may take a long time. This one's a long one. Enjoy :D Oh, and once again people are adding as faves ect and aren't leaving feed back. I would really like some feedback and constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Chapter 5:** Nightmare Turns Reality  
**Characters:** Lord Beckett, Elizabeth Swann, Mercer and some mentions of a few others, oh and randoms (I love that word - Randoms)  
**Rating:** NC-17?  
**Warnings:** Sex , a little bit of blood and mild course language.  
Chapter Summary: Mainly focusing on Elizabeth. (I swear next chapter WILL have more Beckett :S)

**Notes:** My main computer chucked a huge spaz and might I add a very angry toned "AGAIN!" So, with that obvious disappointment, I haven't been as eager to post or something 0_o I've only just recovered from a lousy cold and some of my family issues. The only thing left to complain about is that my dear mother threw my book out – it had my story plan in it! I have another copy of the plan (somewhere) but it's not as good as the one she threw out so I'm going to have to take some fish oil or something to make me remember what the heck was in that plan! Or I could just lock this in the closet for a few months till I figure out what to do with this :S

I got myself a wonderful plot bunny sometime ago for a Beckett/OC fic - I still have this plan! Bahah, Windows Media Player 11 and my massive collection of Evanescence songs gave me an idea, they just did and I have no idea how my mind came to the conclusions that it did - I'm just weird like that :D Maybe while I start this new one off I'll figure out what to do with this one. Bah, I read somewhere that that can sometimes help.

_Nightmare Turns Reality_

Elizabeth jolted awake from a nightmare, which had been one of the many she'd had last night. As she sat up and gazed around the room, she immediately realised that it was the morning of her second wedding.

She'd tossed and turned a great deal last night, and as a consequence, she looked terrible. Her hair was muddled from moving about and looked like something a bird would live in without hesitation.

She'd not only cried herself to sleep but she'd also cried throughout it. She had the visible signs that showed she'd been crying: her eyes were red and the trails of the salty tears she'd shed still marked her face - some still looked fresh.

Elizabeth got up from her bed and gave a long lived stare into the mirror of her vanity. It was terrifying to see herself in such a condition, but her appearance alone couldn't unveil all the tortures of last night - beneath the surface were thing's much more terrorizing.

It wasn't just the nightmares that tortured her, her reality was just as horrendous. The thought of her with Becket at the altar and in the bedroom made her skin crawl with that disgusted feeling that she'd only recently become accustomed to because of the recent events and thoughts with Lord Beckett. The true disgusted feeling usually came when her stomach twisted and moved inside her at the thought of Beckett touching her. When he'd really touched her it was much worse.

She'd also become familiarized with another strange feeling, something just as awful. That desire for more, the want for wet collections of emoticon to build and grow, it was uncomfortably unpleasant – and yet also the opposite. In fact, the contradiction of emotions was exactly what made it unpleasant. She didn't want it to be pleasant because every time Beckett made her feel good she felt like she was betraying Will.

She sat impatiently waiting for and dreading her day to flood in through the door. She didn't expect to see her fiancé; Beckett said that he'd like the wedding as traditional as possible, meaning he couldn't see her before the wedding. Instead she expected Mercer to come through the door with her clothes and Beckett's commands. There wasn't anything remotely like a wedding dress in the small wardrobe; she'd seen that yesterday when she'd rummaged through it to find the cream dress she'd worn to dinner. And if no dress was brought to her she'd just have to make do with what she could find.

She hated playing the waiting game - it made her anxious. She watched the clock. She'd seen this as a countdown to her wedding, her loss of freedom - it was making the waiting game a lot less enjoyable. The minutes eventually turned into to four hours. A few minutes past one o'clock.

She decided it was probably best that she at least ran a brush through her hair. As she sat at her vanity, she slowly stroked the brush through her hair, this way she could use up more time and not sit there thinking thoughts that only made her situation worse.

Maybe Beckett had intended her to be like this; caged up so she could think about things, the things that she wished she hadn't done but had enjoyed at the time – the majority of them anyway.

When she was done brushing she gave a long sigh. She was back to sitting there reflecting on last night.

There were so many things that she wanted to know. She knew for sure that she would be forced to have sex with him, but she wanted to know things about Beckett and his sexual demands and behaviour. Of the numerous things, the first was whether Lord Beckett would be gentle with her or would he simply discard her wants and please his own and only his own. She knew it would hurt, her maids had told her that before her last wedding, but she wanted to know how much it would hurt. She also wanted to know what having sex was like. Lastly she wondered whether there could be a side of Beckett where he could be gentle and loving.

All she could do was hope. Maybe she could escape when they got back to Port Royal, she would've lost her virginity long before then, but all that would matter would be escaping Beckett.

She now sat on the bed trying to think of possible escape plans. She was interrupted by a sailor who presented her with a food tray. He left without saying a word. She thought it was quite rude, but that didn't matter now because at least she had something to eat.

The tray was full of fruit; a large bunch of purple grapes, two bananas, an apple and an orange. She presumed that it was her lunch and began to eat away at the grapes. She followed with the bananas and the apple. She was peeling the orange when there was a fiddling at the door. She placed it on the tray and waited to see who it would be.

Mercer entered closing the door behind him with one hand; the other gripped a large lump of white material. It was what Elizabeth had expected earlier.

"Are you just going to leave that here and say nothing to me, just like that sailor did when he brought me the fruit? Or did his lordship give you something to say?" she asked insolently.

"The fruit was sent with complements of Lord Beckett, nothing else need be said. Although, he did give me something to say about this," Mercer stepped closer to Elizabeth who now stood at the front of the bed. "He said he wants you dressed in this, looking your best before the ship bell sounds to mark five this evening. I'm to wait just outside in the place of the sailor so I can deliver you on time. Am I clear on that miss?"

"Yes," she said and snatched the dress. Now that she'd had a closer look she noticed that it was more of a cream coloured dress than a white one, with gold floral patterns and fine lace around the neck. It was beautiful - just like her last one had been before it was drenched and left to rot in that filthy Fort Charles prison cell with her.

"Good," Mercer finally said before leaving the room to wait outside.

Elizabeth held the dress and felt the soft but yet rough fabric. It was soft where the cotton was but the lace and the gold parts were a little rough. It was now that she really came to see that this was all_ actually_ going to happen.

She slipped her night gown off and threw it on the bed. When she stood at a small bowl that was full of water - which had only appeared on the table in her room after dinner last night - she immediately knew what it could and would be used for. She washed her face with the water, and then dried it with the small towel. She felt fresh and relieved.

This left only one other thing that she could think to do with the water. She took her under garments off, also discarding them to have the same outcome as her night gown. She sat at the small rectangle table's only chair completely exposed. She then took the small cloth that she'd used to wipe her face and dripped it into the bowl. After it was completely lathered with water again, she rang out the excess water; she only needed the cloth to be damp. She knew exactly what kind of dirty place would need cleaning in order to please her new husband that night. She parted her legs. As she smoothed the cold cloth over her warm core she felt a slight tingle, a tingle similar to the ones she'd felt last night. But that wasn't what she wanted to feel, she didn't want to pleasure herself, not now. She wanted to wipe last night's evidence away, every last bit.

When she pulled the cloth up she looked at what she'd just taken off herself. She wasn't too sure of how much there was down there until now. There was a lot; the side of the cloth that had met her parted lips was covered in her releases. _"It wasn't even a climax... but it was enough to do _that,_"_ she thought, slightly amazed by the amount. She placed the cloth in the bowl and left it there.

She placed herself in the same undergarments that she'd worn before; they were the only pair that she had. She laced up her strays. She knew that she wouldn't be the next one to unlace them; Beckett would have that pleasure all to himself.

When she unfolded her new dress ready to try it on she found a hair ornament. It was a shadowy green jewelled clasp. She settled the clip on her vanity and then slipped into her new dress. It just fit; luckily it wasn't as tight as she'd thought it was going to be and that was surprising because most of her dresses were uncomfortable.

All she needed now was to have her hair done. She sat at her vanity and brushed her hair back and into the clip. She was now complete.

She unpeeled and ate the orange that she'd left before and went back to sitting there with her thoughts.

My how time flies, it was now just past three – only two more hours of freedom left.

She was really anxious now. She watched the clock through the reflection in the vanity mirror. It was driving her insane! She was waiting impatiently for something that she didn't really want to go through with, it was odd, but she couldn't help herself...

Before Elizabeth knew it, it was time for her to go and Mercer entered and took her by the arm - dragging her through the ship. She didn't dare say anything, though she did try to be purposely difficult by not keeping up with Mercer's pace.

They eventually came to a staircase. She knew what was up there – the deck – she could see the orange evening light coming through at the top of the stairs.

Mercer's dull tone came from behind her as he shoved her up the stairs. "Walk up these and then continue on to the other side of the deck. Oh, and a word of advice, don't try anything, not even a rude tone, Beckett demands you be silent unless you're asked to speak."

'_So the other side would be...the...' _Her thought was blocked out when Mercer gave her another shove in the back. "Alright, I'm going, I can't bloody well help it if I'm feeling a little traumatized!" she growled back at him.

Mercer just chuckled something cold and gave her yet another shove in the back. That shove was all she needed to get to the top of the staircase. She was now standing straight on to the other side of the deck where she could see James and Beckett and some other man who seemed to be the one with the duty of pronouncing them man and wife, standing at what seemed to be a makeshift altar. It was a pretty sight, large blue material hanging over the sides of the railing. She thought he'd put no effort into decor because he'd want to get it over and done with, and then make great haste to bed her.

She forced her feet to move forwards and walk towards her loss of freedom – Beckett. He obviously wanted his whole crew to watch; either that or they were there to prevent her from escaping. But there was no escape, no hope, none at all – It was all gone, lost.

Now she stood next to Beckett – her groom – and just like in one of her nightmares he took her wrist tightly and gave her a warning with his cold eyes. She froze up, unable to move. Nothing, her mind went completely blank. She became brain-dead.

By the time she'd snapped out of it, it was the time to say those two words. She felt faint thinking of 'I do' but when she said it she had to prevent her hand from coming up to slap in her the mouth. She'd said 'I do' and so had he. She'd also said her vows without even realising it, until now. And _now_, was too late to pull out. What was done was done and couldn't be undone. She was now Lady Elizabeth Beckett.

Now that Elizabeth had gained control of her mind, she could hear the priest say in a cheery voice "You may now kiss the bride," Elizabeth caught a very short sideways look at James. He looked upset, really upset and turned his head away.

Oh how she was just about to yell 'no' when her husband quickly pulled her in his arms and kissed her for a brieft moment. Then he pushed her away gently as she'd lingered too long in the moment in that brain-dead way. She looked around then back into her new husband's familiar smirk. She then felt heavy, her heart began to race which made her breath come quicker and she swayed ever so slightly... _"No, please, not now, not here."_ She thought before she drifted away into a swivelled blur of dark colours that was the image of Beckett.

"Mercer, I think she's coming round. You may leave now," Beckett said and he turned to face Mercer.

"Sir," Mercer replied tipping his hat just before leaving.

Elizabeth had fainted and Beckett made haste to get her taken to his bed chamber. He had Mercer put her on the bed.

Beckett hadn't expected her to faint, though he had expected her to attempt some sort of rebellious refusal at some point during the vows. But this was probably better anyway. This was in a way a good thing because he wouldn't have to drag his new wife kicking and screaming all the way to his bed chamber. The only kicking and screaming she could and would do now was when he forced himself on her. He liked that she would become instantly powerless in the situation, giving him the upper hand, the one with the power and he knew how good power felt. It made him feel above everyone, which was good due to his height. It was that kind of power one could easily possess when one gets another into an agreement which they can't refuse and Elizabeth couldn't refuse and Beckett had Mr Turner to thank for that.

Elizabeth began to groan as she came into consciousness. Beckett had seen her movements and moved himself over to the desk in the corner of the room. He poured two glasses of wine. Elizabeth, in the time Beckett had taken to pour the wine and walked back over to the bed, had sat up.

"You look just as good unconscious as you do conscious," he said, complementing her beauty.

"So I've been told..." she said, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the wine he held out for her. "You know it's going to take a lot more than just wine to make me willingly sleep with you,"

"I know that." he spoke as if only one of them would be having sex tonight, which of course was true, he knew she'd most likely lie there motionless and complain about the pain she'd experience.

"My pardon?" she said taking the wine glass in hand as Beckett sat on the bed.

"Do we need to be concerned with that now?" he asked. He didn't want to talk to her; all he wanted to do right now was take her.

"I would very much like to see it before we...move on," she said. She then watched him dive into his waist coat.

He took a piece of folded paper from his pocket and waved it in her face. "There you go,"

Elizabeth immediately single handily opened it up and moved her attention to the signatures and seal at the bottom. "I still have to sign it, don't I?"

"You may do so latter," he said taking the pardon from her. "For instance, after we're done here," he continued in a tone she hadn't heard from him before. It was his tone that made Elizabeth think of a describing word 'seductive'. If losing her virginity was going to be what she needed to do to gain her pardon then so be it.

"So, the wine would be for my own good then?" she said before she skulled the wine and waved the empty glass in his face.

"That maybe so," he placed her empty glass on the bedside table before he drank his own and put it to the same fate.

He now stood at the side of the bed with prying eyes on his possession. "Now, to chasten the chaste," he said as he removed his waist coat.

"Oh God, whatever do you mean by chasten?" she asked quickly and she became concerned.

"I'm not actually going to punish you, stupid girl. Now come here," he said, perhaps it was intended to scare the living daylights out of Elizabeth who immediately did as she was told. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked up at him not knowing what she should do. How innocent she looked when she sat there like that. How irresistible she looked...

He took his white undershirt off, followed by the placing of his wig on the side table. She'd never seen a man half undressed like that before, it was all new to her and she wasn't too sure if she liked it or not.

He reached for the back of Elizabeth's head where he undid her clip quickly and roughly, taking a few of her hairs with it - Elizabeth flinched in pain. He discarded the clip with the shirt on the floor, tossing it backwards, the ornament made no noise as it landed on the shirt.

The way that he discarded the clip made her see how really careless he was with his possessions and as she was now one of his many - _'Please don't be like that with me,' _she thought.

With her long strands of hair now freely sat on her shoulders she'd became more enticing and she shivered at this realisation. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up off the bed. When she stood, he spun her around and undid her strays. He did so with great speed; her strays became loosened in no time at all. He tugged her dress downwards and let it fall around her ankles. He then bit by bit undressed the rest her very slowly as he wanted to watch his chaste beauty quiver with fear knowing that she would no longer be pure. She did quiver innocently just the way he wanted her to – she took small nervous bites at her lower lip. She was now completely bare and as she was turned away from him he admired her backside _'I hope her front is just as nice nice,'_ he then spun her around to face him to find out.

He took in the site of her the two nicely shaped curves that were at her chest. He slowly moved his gaze downwards to inspect the real prize. _'Pleasing. Now let's see how you react to this,'_

He gave her a small push that made her fall backwards onto the bed. She used her elbows to prop herself up.

He separated her legs and took in the sight of her golden hairs and pink lips "Mmmm, we have ourselves matching hair colour down there," he ran his fingers through her nest of the small blonde curls. Elizabeth didn't say anything. She just gasped at his rude observation as she watched him touch her.

She turned her attention away when she noticed that he'd moved his hand and had started to fiddle with the front of his breeches. He'd slipped them down over his hips after undoing them and stepped out of them. He then lunged forward onto the bed space in between her pated legs. He placed her arms above her head and pushed her further up the bed. Either she was aroused by his actions or the cool night air had gotten to her breasts and made her nipples hard. He couldn't tell.

His eyes swept up and down at her body, he noticed how tender her breasts looked and in a way that made Elizabeth feel small, defenceless. Elizabeth struggled, but this only made matters worse when she accidently opened her legs even wider in her struggle. Beckett took this as his opportune moment to get in close to her warm, wet centre.

When she felt the tip of his member touch the tight, moist flesh in-between her divided thighs, she helplessly cried "Stop!" even though she knew he wouldn't listen to her. There was nothing she could do. She gave in and stopped her resistance...for now. Beckett now leant against her with a firm grip on both her breasts, slowing circling his thumbs around her hard nipples. He then violently kissed her neck, the skin in-between her breasts and finally his last was planted at her apex at the top of her parted legs. She powerlessly moaned at that last vigorous placing of where his lips and warm breath were upon her. She looked down at him as he raised his head to reveal a seductive smirk.

He moved himself up close to her entrance again, this time he pressed himself into her wetness. Elizabeth gasped at the new sensation; it was much better than she'd already experienced. No, she didn't want it to feel nice. She moved her hands up planning to push him off her but she failed. Beckett took her hands and pinned them to the bed on either side of her head. He kept a firm grip on them as he thrust into her. She was still being difficult; she shook her head and helplessly tried to get his tight grip off her wrists, pushing his grip upwards and off the bed. It was no use, she wasn't strong enough.

If only he had three hands, the third would keep her mouth shut. "Please, it hurts, stop!" she pleaded again. He just ignored her and drove himself further into her. She was tight and he thought she had quite a thick feminine barrier to break, it was no wonder she complained. She groaned whilst she held back the need to cry. "Be quiet you ungrateful bitch," he said after another hard, and to her painful, thrust, which she cried out in pain because of. She didn't dare say another word now, though she did occasionally groan in pain. He could see that she didn't want this and that she was upset but that's what made him enjoy taking her even more.

He continued to thrust harder and kiss her breasts and stomach, occasionally getting a sharp gasp from his wife's lips. She watched him as he ravished her. He now really began to thrust hard and deep. Her once pure body gave into the sensational throbbing in-between her thighs and she let out one large moan that was combined with a sudden whimper as she felt her hymen tare.

Just before he realised he'd broken her, he found his climax and left his seed. He then released her hands and slid under the sheets. "The towel I had you lie on - clean yourself with it and get back into bed immediately or else I'll have you again," he lied of course, he knew that he wouldn't have the energy to take her again, even if he hadn't wanted to do so as a punishment.

She'd sat up and attempted to cover herself. She looked down to see the towel was red that she hadn't noticed before, she thought it was white... no, it wasn't a red towel; it was the white towel stained with her blood. She swung over the other side of the bed and cleaned the blood away with the towel. "You needn't bother getting dressed either," he said lifelessly to her bare back.

When Elizabeth was sure she'd wiped away the remnants of her virginity, she folded the towel so the blood was on the inside and placed it on the bed side table. She slipped into bed. Immediately Beckett put his arms around her body and began to make kisses that would surely leave marks all down her neck and arm. She still kept the need to cry inside her as she knew he wouldn't tolerate her if she let it out.

"See, it really did require more than the wine to get this," he whispered into her ear. She'd turned to him to give him a rather displeased look; he just kissed her and ignored her facial expression. He then turned her over and placed her on his chest. She thought that when a man would do that to her that she would enjoy it, but this man was Lord Beckett and she didn't get close to enjoying it. She didn't resist or fight back...she simply gave in, she gave away her freedom.

**Oh and that thing that I needed to thank my friend Twix for – as I didn't want to err spoil it at the top – was for the fainting scene. I've never fainted or anything like that so yeah asking him helped a great deal. Twix and Hungry Student you're legends.**


	6. Voyage

**Look an update! Yes, I'm sorry. I told a few people towards the end of last year that I would update before Christmas... which I didn't because **_**'tis the season to be awfully busy!~' **_**Sorry.**__**I guess I've managed to update before Christmas THIS year, so that's an accomplishment. I have no idea when my next update will be. There are always obstacles, writers block, real life ect. This year I'll have lots of studying to do (apparently) so that will be my new obstacle. I'll find away to balance things, hopefully. On with the new chapter! Please remember, don't be shy and tell me what you think! No flaming. Constructive criticism is welcome.**

**Chapter six:** Voyage  
**Characters:** Lord Beckett, Mercer, Elizabeth, Norrington and mentions of Weatherby Swann and Will.  
**Warnings:** Oral sex, sexual references, mention of a rather rough sexual act.  
**Word count:** 4,509  
**Chapter Summary:** Months have passed aboard the _Endeavour_. Elizabeth finds herself unable to provide her husband with a night of intimacy so Beckett has her do something else...

It had been months now since Lord Beckett had taken Elizabeth Swann as his wife, had her to bed and to torment as he pleased. They'd been aboard the _Endeavour _for what felt like years. In the months that had passed Beckett had been efficiently dealing with pirates and other matters that he wouldn't allow Elizabeth to know about, whilst spending a night or two each week with her in his company. She was still persistent on not enjoying the episodes of intimacy they shared, and yet it wouldn't take much to notice the occasional signs of enjoyment that slipped from her. That was the best part for Beckett. In fact, it was part of the reason he shared her company so frequently. If time would allow it, he would have her in bed with him more often. Unfortunately there were always things that he needed tending to, things that were of more importance than his wife.

They'd been to many different ports in the Spanish Main and the North Atlantic to hunt down pirates and to resupply when it was necessary. They'd at some point taken out a pirate Sloop near Cuba, and to Beckett's misfortune none of the crew had survived for interrogation. Although most of the voyage was rather pointless, Beckett had managed to stop a few pirate activities so while being as pointless as it felt it wasn't a _complete_ waste of time. The ship had recently docked at Nassau Port, and Beckett had gone ashore with most of the officers. Elizabeth was left almost forgotten in her small room. She wished that she could go ashore. She hadn't left the ship for the whole six months or so that she'd been aboard the _Endeavour_ and she'd been at sea for even longer. She wanted land, to hear the sounds of birds that weren't sea gulls, the feel of solid ground underneath her feet. And of course, land could very well mean her chance to escape. And that had at least had one advantage – no more slipping between the sheets with her husband.

She often wondered what would happen when they finally reached their destination. Would he pay much attention to her, or completely forget about her? She also wanted to know the reason for him wanting her. There were plenty of women in the world. So why did he pardon Elizabeth on the account that she married him? What was so special about her? She often wanted to ask but then again, perhaps sometimes things are best left unknown. She doubted that he'd her answer anyway.

Four days was certainly not the longest that Beckett had gone without accompanying Elizabeth to bed. It had been left longer a few times before, usually during periods when they'd made anchor to re-supply the ship.

"Are you decent my lady?" a male voice came from the other side of Elizabeth's chamber door.

"Yes." Elizabeth replied as she stood and straightened her skirts. She always did this when someone came to her room.

It was around eight. She knew this was usually the time when she'd have her supper brought to her, or if Beckett was around and he desired her presence, he'd send for her to dine with him.

Keys unlocked the door outside and Admiral James Norrington entered the room with a small tray of food. He closed the door behind him. He did this little duty every night when Mercer was off doing grim tasks for Beckett. And Mercer only did this because Beckett didn't trust the men on board - especially when they were docked; there was more chance of them getting alcoholic substances that often fuelled crude behaviour. This time James had been left in charge of the ship whilst Beckett and some other superiors were ashore. Apparently Beckett could trust the Admiral with the ship and to feed his pet.

"You did it again," Elizabeth said.

It took James a moment to realise what she meant. Of course, she'd asked him not to call her 'my lady' or anything similar. "Beckett asks us to call you-" he started, but was cut off by Elizabeth.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him." she smiled. She often did when James came to bring her food, water and whatever else, and of course deliver some sort of conversation. She was always much the opposite when Mercer came. She would never ask about what the ships course was or about what Beckett was up to, she knew that he would answer neither.

"And what if someone heard me calling you by your first name and they told Beckett?" James asked, placing the tray of food on the table. What he said was true but it wasn't why he'd said it. He simply refused to call her 'Elizabeth'. It was improper, amongst other things...

"I'm sure that grown men don't tell tales. Or do they?" Elizabeth said taking a seat at the table.

"No. I don't think they do. But...I'm sure that if Mercer heard he would." James said, hovering uncomfortably.

Elizabeth always found it unusual that he never took a seat, even though he stayed and spoke with her. Then again, they never did speak for that long, usually he'd just tell her what Beckett had told him to say and then leave. Sometimes he might add a few polite personal remarks before leaving. Come to think of it Elizabeth and James' longest conversation had been when Elizabeth had had a teary moment about how guilty she'd felt when she'd jilted him for Will and all the mess that had followed.

"I suppose you're right then. Call me as His Lordship likes..." She looked somewhat frustrated but that quickly changed when she asked, "When do you think we'll be leaving Nassau?"

"Soon," James answered.

Silence fell. Elizabeth began to eat her supper - salted pork and a few undercooked vegetables. It was usually this sort of thing. The only food she enjoyed was fruit, mostly the mangoes; unfortunately they weren't brought to her very often.

"You do know where we're headed don't you?" James asked.

"No. Beckett won't tell me anything... I didn't think you would either." She replied cutting into the pork.

"Port Royal," James said.

"... Why?" she asked curiously.

"Beckett's going to hang-"

"Will… Yes James. I'm well aware of that." She sounded rather irritated now. '_Why did he have to bring that up now?'_

"... I overheard Mercer and Beckett speaking about it the other day. He's going to make you watch... I thought that you should know. I... I'll leave you now." James said. "Goodnight my lady."

"Wait... Why would you tell me this?" Elizabeth asked.

"I do not know..." he replied.

"How can you not-"

"I just don't know..." This time James sounded unhappy.

Elizabeth gave a long sigh. "Goodnight admiral." She said mockingly, but plainly.

Elizabeth was silent until he left and the keys turned the lock before she showed any signs of being upset. _'He's going to make me watch... Will die...' _She tried not to get all teary as she finished her supper... unfortunately her will power against this just wasn't enough.

*+*+*+*+*+*

The next morning Beckett returned to the docks. Marines were scattered loading the last crates of food and supplies onto the ship and getting ready to make sail. Beckett was making his way up the gangplank when Mercer appeared next to him. "Everything is in order sir."

"Excellent. Now, what of my wife? Did she behave whilst I was ashore?" Beckett asked, taking the last step up the gangway and onto the deck.

"She didn't try any escapes this time, though she did use attitude the other night when I brought her her supper." Mercer answered. They headed up the stairs to the helm.

"Maybe she learnt her lesson from the last time she tried to escape. Her punishment was quite enjoyable... It's a shame I won't have the pleasure of doing it again."

Mercer gave an all-knowing smirk. He knew that whatever her punishment was it went on in Beckett's quarters after the sun had gone down. Maybe something that involved a violent hand to the rump? Ropes? She had a large bruise on her arm the next day. There could have been more bruises too, but if there were they were covered by her clothes. Mercer waited a moment to see if Beckett would say anything but when he did not he asked "Shall I order them to raise the anchor then, sir?"

Beckett squint his eyes because the sun had made direct contact with them, he then answered sarcastically, "Well we can't very well leave port if we don't." He then turned away and headed back down the stairs hovering one hand in the air to keep the sun out of his eyes. He then disappeared inside of the ship.

When Beckett was out of sight, Mercer began barking commands to the crew below.

The ship made its way out of Nassau's port with ease. The winds were on their side. They sailed with all sails up to make the best of the favourable wind and tide. If it kept up, the _Endeavour_ would make it to its next port of call, Port Royal, long before they were due there.

*+*+*+*+*+*

The day had progressed rather quickly. It was now evening and Lord Beckett was alone and seated at his station. He'd been sitting there for hours in the humid room overlooking reports whilst sipping tea and now wine. Slamming the last report paper onto the desk he collapsed back into his chair exhausted. He was exhausted not because he had done plenty of work but because the heat just seemed to drain him of his energy. Thankfully since the sun had started to descend so did the heat. He raised his class to his mouth and drank the remaining sips. There was a knock at the door just as he'd placed his glass down. "Come in." he called out.

Mr. Mercer entered with his coat draped over one arm. "Shall I have yer evenin' meal brough' in?"

"No. Tonight I'll dine with Elizabeth." Beckett answered placing some of the papers in the draw of his desk.

"I had a feeling you might say that." Mercer replied with one of his all-knowing smirks.

"Yes. I can't say I'd ever doubt that." Beckett said. Mercer grinned almost stupidly at this. Beckett – unamused – ordered, "Don't just stand there, go and organise dinner then go fetch her for me!"

"My apologies sir," Mercer said before he swiftly went off to perform the given tasks. Being Lord Beckett's clerk did indeed have both good and bad days.

Beckett also left to wait at the dinner table for dinner to be severed and for Mercer to return with his wife. As he waited he watched the kitchen hands and cooks as they brought out servings of food and set the table. He looked straight ahead to the other side of the table. "That first candelabra isn't straight." Beckett said, pointing to the candelabra. Immediately one of the staff came back to rectify it. As the same man who had straightened the candelabra was leaving, he held the door open for Mercer who had returned with Elizabeth. She entered and the staff member left closing the door behind him. Upon seeing his package delivered, Beckett motioned for Mercer to leave.

"I see we've left Nassau." Elizabeth said taking her seat at the opposite end of the table.

"Yes," Beckett said and waited for Elizabeth to feed him some more words. When she didn't he thought that he'd be the one to start conversation. "Well, aren't you going to inquire about my visit in Nassau?"

"Oh, sorry, did you have a good time?" She said in a sweet sounding sarcastic tone.

Beckett flicked his hand and two servants came to lift the lids on Beckett and Elizabeth's meals. What a surprise! Salted meat and vegetables - _again_. "Mercer told me that you were well behaved whilst I was ashore - why change now? And no, I didn't." He said.

"That is a shame." she said already cutting into her salted meat, beef, though she wasn't too sure. She knew that Beckett would most likely rush his meal so to unbalance that she would eat slowly.

"Persistent aren't we? Never mind, I'm sure you're doing this because you'd like it if I punished you. You do know that you can just as easily ask don't you?"

"No! That's not it at all!" she said lifting her knife and fork. Goodness no, she didn't want _that_ again.

"Then I suggest you put an end to your attitude problem." He said. This was when he finally decided to start cutting into his own meal, rather hurriedly just as Elizabeth had expected.

"Sorry... it's just that I really would have liked to have left the ship" she said. _'Even if it was with you,'_

"Why is that? So you could try another escape?" he said before eating his first piece of the meal.

"No, it's because I'm sick of being in that room all day! There is nothing to do! The only time I leave is when you desire my company!" she complained.

"That's too bad. Though it won't be long before get your chance to disembark the ship. We'll reach Port Royal soon; Groves tells me that if the favourable weather keeps up we'll be there even sooner." Beckett said scooping some of the vegetables and meat together onto his fork with his knife.

"That's good news." Elizabeth said, though, she wasn't too sure if it really was good news. Remembering what James had told her would happen once they'd arrived.

"I'm in no doubt that you're looking forward to going home. I can imagine that you haven't been in your father's mansion for quite some time. When was the last time you were there? Was it your wedding day?"

"Yes... My wedding day..." she said with a glimpse of that day in the back of her mind. She continued when she remembered what else he'd mentioned "Wait. You mean you're planning to make the mansion your own?" she said shocked.

"Of course, if I'm going to take up a permanent residence in Port Royal where else would I live?" he said.

"You mean to imply that there isn't another place worthy of having you as its owner?" she asked.

"Exactly. You see, nothing else would accommodate me to my standards. Even the mansion only just passes my expectations. I'll probably have it re-painted in most places and replace the tiles in the entrance hall. And I'm sure there are other things that will need to be touched up too." He said conceitedly. "Think of it like this. It's still your home; you're my wife so that makes it mine, ours."

"So you've been inside, when?" She asked. She hadn't even thought that he would've had the chance to go to the mansion. She pushed her food about the plate whilst she thought.

"When I went and spoke with your father before the Endeavour left Port Royal. More than once I do believe." Beckett answered.

"You allowed him to go up to the mansion...? I thought that you'd be watching him all the time." she said.

"If I allowed him to return home it would avoid any suspicion and, by the way, I did have someone following your father." He said.

"Mercer?" she asked.

"No. I sent him to follow you." He said.

"Oh..." she said. She didn't have a clue that Mercer had been following her.

"He found you in Tortuga. Then he came to report that you had found Mr. Norrington whilst you were there." He said. "It made interesting news for your father."

Elizabeth remained silent whilst she ate. Beckett who had expected her to ask far more questions asked, "Aren't you going to ask questions?"

"No. I don't want to know about the past. At the moment I'm too fixed on worrying about the future." She said.

"You mean when we reach Port Royal? Don't tell me that you're thinking about another escape attempt already?" He said flicking his hand to one of the servants. He'd finished all that he wanted to eat. Only a potato was left on his plate.

"That's not what I meant... I was referring to going back home. Think of all the prejudice people are going to throw at me." She said.

"It will be like that for a while, maybe, but once they realise that you're _my_ wife I'm sure it will all go away." He said. "Are you finished?"

"Yes, I am." Beckett flicked his hand at her words and a servant took Elizabeth's plate. "I suppose that you'll want me..." she said.

"Of course," He said smirking.

"Well, I don't think now is the best time..." she trailed off.

"Why?" he asked.

Elizabeth blushed. "Well…because it's...," she groaned. "I'm in the middle of my courses, alright? And I really don't think you'd want to lie with me... during... whilst I'm..." she said. She tried to be quiet so that the servants couldn't hear but loud enough so that Beckett could.

"Yes. You are right..." he said disappointed. It wasn't the fact that he couldn't be intimate with her that disappointed him...

"Well, come three days time it should be... done." She said. The topic was awkward but she tried not to shy away.

Whilst they both sat there at the table in silence Beckett remembered something that he'd trained Elizabeth to do. Sure it wasn't intimacy but it was just as pleasurable. "Actually," He said sounding much brighter. "You can still come with me." His signature smirk appeared across his face.

*+*+*+*+*+*

Beckett led Elizabeth back to his bedchamber. He dressed down for bed, wigless and shirtless. Elizabeth on the other hand, was fully clothed. Elizabeth didn't have a clue why he'd brought her back to his bedchamber with him. What could she do? He'd said that he didn't want to have intercourse with her so of what other use could she be? There was never any other time that she was to company him in his bedchamber.

"Why am I here if you can't do anything with me?" she finally brought herself to ask.

"Well, do you remember what you learnt a few months ago... because _that_ is what I brought you here for," He said sitting on the side of the bed. "Come; go to the other side of the bed."

"You taught me a few things... Which one are you referring to?" she asked as she sat on the other side of the bed, watching him as he sat up.

"Undo my breeches... and then-"

She gaped at him. "No! I'm not doing anything of the sort!" she said.

"I didn't finish what I was going to say, so how do you know what I want you to do?" he asked.

"Uh, I just know... because I remember what you... _trained_ me to give..." she said with a worried look on her face. Of all the things that went on when she was alone with her husband behind a locked door this was something she absolutely couldn't stand – having his cock in her mouth. "Please, my lord, don't make me do that!" she begged.

"You know saying things like that just make me want it even more..._'my lord' _always does sound so nice when you say it in a situation like this." He said. "You know what I want you to do, so do it."

She hesitated at first. Really, she didn't know which was worse, being smacked around when she refused or giving her husband head. Then again, she'd only be forced to do it in the end so she might as well just save the fuss and do as he asked – hopefully she could bring the task to a close as soon as possible. She crawled over to her husband, with difficulty because of her dress – which she was surprised that he didn't demand that she remove. She positioned herself in-between his legs, which he'd ever so kindly parted for her. She was about to undo his breeches but thought for a moment about what she was about to do. A moment that his lordship thought went on for too long "Carry on." He commanded.

"Sorry," she said but when she remembered what she was doing, well, about to do, she added a seductive "My lord." To make sure she would leave his bedchamber without a slap across the face for her 'incompetence'.

Lifting Elizabeth's chin, looking straight into her eyes and stroking her soft pink lips, he told her she was a good girl. She enjoyed the little complement too, though she didn't show it. She began to undo his breeches, slowly as a tormenting gesture. She was sure that he appreciated it. She undid the final button on his breeches and with much uncertainty took hold of his arousal. Now came the part she dreaded most.

She lowered her head and opened her mouth. As she moved her lips down and over the head of his member she slowly circled her tongue. Beckett flinched in pleasure but after just a few moments he found himself in control once more. He pushed Elizabeth's hair behind her ears so that he had a clear view of what she was doing. His thumb trailed over her slightly flushed cheeks as he did so. She took the unwanted liberty of enjoying the feel of his rough thumb gliding over her soft skin.

She began to suck harder. Beckett watched her head move up and down as her lips ran the full length of his cock. He took hold on the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair and, moving her head to a rhythm he enjoyed. He groaned loudly when she flicked her tongue across the very tip; then took as much as she could in her mouth and very slowly moved upwards again to flick the head with her tongue. She repeated this a few times before she resumed a quicker pace.

Beckett noted that she was getting better at this; he enjoyed the way she experimented with varying speeds and pressures. Usually right as he was enjoying the new speed she'd change to another, making him yearn for more. The only thing wrong with her performance was that _she_ didn't groan. He wanted to hear her hum and purr, he wanted to feel it. But she wouldn't. Maybe she did this to tease him even more? To drive him mad.

Impassioned, he gripped hard on the back of her head forcing her to take a bit too much of his manhood in her mouth. She almost choked. "Can you not do that?" she asked when she came up to stop herself from choking.

"I didn't tell you to stop. Oh, and try and be a bit more of a slut would you?" he said pushing her head back down. She whimpered a very rushed "Sorry my lord." Before taking his cock back into her mouth once more.

She wasn't too sure what he meant by wanting her to be more of a slut. She guessed that he wanted her to up her game but she didn't know how, as inexperienced as she was. There didn't seem to be much more she could do other than what she was already doing. Her thoughts were interrupted by another of her husband's loud groans. There was something about her husband's groans that excited her, and of course part of her hated that fact. But this time... it sounded so, so much more enjoyable to her knowing that her ministrations gave him pleasure. She was sure that if she wasn't bleeding she'd enjoy it all that much more still. She moaned at the thought. Wait, groan... Maybe if she... no, that would be a bit... actually it would be exactly what he'd like.

She took his arousal from her mouth and gave a very loud and very fake moan. She then licked her lips slowly and placed her mouth back over his member again. He just looked at her, confused at first, but when he realised that she'd done that to be more 'slutty' he told her she was a "very good girl." A few flicks and teases later she moaned again but this time with him in her mouth still. He groaned too, louder than before as he suddenly climaxed. Beckett pushed her away and she watched as he came. She liked what she saw. She'd never seen him release because the only time he did so was when he was inside her. After regaining his breath he lifted her chin and praised her, running his thumb over her moist lips "Much better. That will do for this evening sweet." He did up the buttons on his breeches.

"Yes my lord." She said. She scrambled out of bed. "What now...? And might I rinse my mouth out?"

He got out of bed and motioned to the wash bowl. "You may use the water in that if you wish..." he said.

"Thank you." She said politely. She went over to his wash bowl and used a glass to take some of the water. She gargled the water than spat it back into the cup. She repeated this a few times. It didn't look very lady like. At least her mouth didn't taste like her husband anymore.

"You've done quite well this evening. Very little negative responses came from you...is it that you've had enough of being beaten or have you simply given up?" he said placing his arms around her waist.

"I- I guess it's both of those reasons." She said turning her head round to face her husband. He kissed her roughly then let go of her.

"Then can I trust you to go back to your room on your own?" he asked.

"Yes... But who will lock me in?" she said.

"I guess it can stay unlocked..." he answered.

"So when I'm undressing anyone can open the door and see... I'd prefer if someone locked me in." She said.

"If no one knows that it isn't locked then they won't try." He answered.

"I suppose so..." she said. "Is this going to be some sort of test?" she asked.

"Yes." He answered.

"I thought so." She said. Of course it would have to be. This was Beckett she was talking to.

"You're doing quite well so far. You were suspicions, if you hadn't have been you would have immediately gone with it and made a failed attempt of escape." He said.

"True... very true," she said. He was surprised that she accepted that he said that she would fail. She turned and headed for the door and so did he with the keys. He unlocked the door. "Goodnight, my lord." She curtsied before leaving.

"Goodnight, my lady."


	7. Arrival

**Chapter seven: **Arrival**  
Characters: **Elizabeth, Lord Beckett, James, Mercer, Groves, Murtogg and Mullroy with mentions of Governor Swann, Will and Jack.**  
Rating: **M**  
Warnings: **Oral sex, but not explicit.**  
Word count: **3,381**  
Chapter summary: **This chapter takes off where the last chapter was left. Elizabeth passes Beckett's test and is granted the freedom to wonder around the ship... just as they approach Port Royal.  
**Disclaimer: **Pirates of the Caribbean and its characters aren't mine. **  
Notes: **I haven't updated since January – because I jinxed myself with the studying lots thing! Oops!

Arrival

Elizabeth wrote in her dairy when she arrived back to her room. She decided to include her feelings about the situation that had fallen upon her over the past two days and what had happened with Beckett in his quarters.

'_... I can now say with certainty that I'm not looking forward to going home. It's a few weeks away and I know it will plague my thoughts until the very moment we arrive. And perhaps the very day that we arrive will be the day that I am forced to watch Will, Jack and the others hang. To make things worse I have remembered that in my room, unless they have been moved, there is a small pile of wedding gifts which I don't think I will be able to even look at let alone unwrap.'_ This was followed by _'Due to me having my courses, Beckett had me… he forced me to… oh, how can I phrase this? He had me pleasure him with my mouth. It was most improper, I think I may have enjoyed it just as much as he did, and now I feel just like a harlot; the only difference being that I wasn't paid for my services.'_

She stopped and thought for a moment before she continued. _'I should include Beckett's little test.'_ she thought. She dipped the quill in the ink pot before continuing.

'_After Beckett was finished with me he sent me back to my room neither unescorted nor followed by anyone. It was a test he had set for me.' _The quill made a scratching sound as she wrote more and the ink became less thick at the end of the quill. '_On the way I had a small talk with James. He was as nervous as always talking to me but at least I managed to understand how Beckett's test would work. He explained that Beckett had in-fact planned to give me the test and informed people he knew would be in the area that I was allowed to be unescorted, this way those in other areas of the ship would catch me out and he would then know that I was not to be trusted. I will admit, that was clever, no, __cunning__ of him.' _

She stopped and dipped the quill into the ink pot again. '_James also told me that if I passed I would be allowed to move freely aboard the ship as long as I don't go down to the brig or disturb the officers and sailors. I can't help but wonder why he is giving me this sort of freedom. Has he really decided he can trust me that much? I guess for now I can say that I'm in his good books and I plan on remaining in them until he can _really_ trust me. I just wish that keeping in his good books didn't involve anything sexual; but because it does I'll just have to bear with it.'_

When Elizabeth had finished writing in her diary and had put her things away she undressed for bed; anxious of being interrupted, she didn't let her eyes leave the unlocked door until she was in-between the sheets.

When the morning arrived so did Mercer with a tray of food. He placed the food on the table. Elizabeth sat up in her bed only just waking when she heard the tray being placed onto the table.

"Lord Beckett is allowin' you to roam the ship unescorted, providing you stay away from the brig and the sailors and don't disturb him and the other officers. Am I makin' his terms clear milady?" Mercer asked.

"So I don't even get a 'good morning my lady' before you start regurgitating my husband's commands?" she retorted. "I find that rude..."

"I'm not 'ere to provide friendly conversation. Do you understan' the conditions or not?"

"No need to be so snappy about it! Yes, I understand," she said. "But might I inquire as to why he is allowing me such freedom?"

"I wouldn' have a clue milady. I never dare to question his actions." And with that he turned to leave.

"So I don't get a goodbye either! I shall tell my husband about your rudeness towards his _dear_ wife!" she called out, but to her knowledge it was too late, she guessed that he hadn't heard her – he'd already left and closed the door behind him.

While Elizabeth dressed, Beckett was seated at his station in conversation with Lieutenant Theodore Groves. Groves had just boarded from a mail sloop to inform Beckett of the situation back in Port Royal.

"The house is almost ready sir. The servants are making the final preparations but all the main work is completed. As for the pirate situation in the area – it was efficiently dealt with towards the end of last month and we haven't had any trouble since." Groves said.

"Excellent." Beckett said, feeling pleased that all had gone well in Port Royal with the small pirate retaliation having been defeated and that all of the renovations to the mansion had been completed. He reached into the top drawer of his desk and removed a bundle of letters. He passed them over the desk to Groves.

"Sir?" Groves asked, confused.

"You're to go back to Port Royal aboard the mail sloop; even if things are running smoothly we can't afford another problem to get out of hand, I know you're capable of handling things. Admiral Norrington is to go with you along with a small handful of sailors." Beckett said reaching for his cup and saucer.

"Of course sir," Groves said, accepting his orders obediently and without question. "I'll get the Admiral and leave immediately."

Beckett sipped his tea as he watched Groves leave; he began to consider how _nice_ it would be to notify Elizabeth that they would be in Port Royal sooner than expected.

Elizabeth was using her newly given freedom to be above deck. It was nice to get some fresh air, especially before it became noon and the sun would become far too unbearable. The wind was blowing her dress and hair about and she had to keep moving it out of her eyes. She leaned on the railing of the ship. _ 'With this wind we'll be in Port Royal soon, too soon,' _she thought to herself_. _ She heaved a sigh and looked out to the horizon line then watched a group a sea gulls down below as they braved the choppy sea to sit on the surface of the water and dive below it for small fish.

Beckett was above deck now too. He was ordering Mercer and a few others to do something at the other side of the ship when he spotted Elizabeth by the railing and made his way over to her.

"Enjoying the fresh air are we sweet?" Beckett said, coming up to grab her hips from behind.

His voice and touch were sudden, and because Elizabeth's mind was off elsewhere it startled her and she quickly turned around to face him; trying to pretend he hadn't scared the living daylights out of her.

"Yes, very much thank you." She replied with a fake smile appearing across her lips.

"Did you see the mail sloop leave just before?" he asked.

"Yes. I noticed some of your men went aboard." She replied. _'James included...'_

"Yes. Groves notified me earlier that the sailing conditions ahead are-"

"Perfect; I figured as much." she interrupted.

"While you are correct, next time, don't interrupt me." Beckett said angrily. "And get out of the sun; your tan has been slowly fading away over the months and your skin has softened, don't ruin it now."

"Sorry my lord," she said.

In that instant she decided to return to her room until dinner because she had nothing better to do. She walked away without being called back by her husband, so she gathered he didn't really want to talk to her - when did he really? Beckett went off in the opposite direction to get back to some paper work at his desk. The one person she knew and wanted to talk to aboard the ship who wasn't in the brig was James and of course to her misfortune he would leave just as she was given the freedom to walk around the ship as she pleased. She had already seen for herself a few months ago the amount of guards that were watching the brig so she couldn't even try to sneak down to see Will. On her way back to her room she wondered if it was just a coincidence or something more that she was granted this freedom just as they approached Port Royal and that James wasn't aboard the ship.

Some hours later Mercer knocked on Elizabeth's door to inform her that dinner would be served shortly. Two nights in a row – she could only wonder what the great occasion was and hoped that it was not just another arrangement to pleasure him. She quickly ran the brush through her hair and pinned it back with the large clasp she found in her drawers months ago. It wasn't until she was out the door that she realised she'd just automatically gone through the effort to make herself look decent for him. She decided she had done it for _her_ sake.

On her way to dinner she passed Murtogg and Mullroy who both simultaneously said "Evening my lady." with a bow of their heads. She replied "Evening gentlemen," as she passed them. She noticed that even under Beckett's command they were still the same – arguing about everything, as they had been.

She opened the door to find Mercer leaning over Beckett whispering something to him, to which Beckett whispered something back as his eyes locked with hers across the room. Mercer left as she took a seat at what she could now call her end of the table. The staff removed the lids of their meals with an almost immediate flick Beckett's hand and Elizabeth instantly took in the smell of highly salted meat and vegetables. To eat a different dish was something to look forward to when they reached Port Royal. Of all the brussel sprouts she refused to eat but was eventually forced to as a child, she now wished they were there in front of her and she would eat them willingly.

The thought of her being able to think about things like that without Beckett saying something struck her as unusual. He was always the one to start conversation at dinner. She decided the silence should end and came up with something which sounded wifely enough to say, after all last night she had been told off for not enquiring. "How was your afternoon?"

"It was-" he hesitated. "What makes you ask?"

"I'm just inquiring about my husband's day, that's all. You complained about how I didn't last night." She said taking her knife and fork in her hands.

"I spent the entire afternoon at my desk working; how do you think it was?" he said starting at his food.

"Clearly it must have been..." she decided to stop and think so she could choose her words more carefully. "…enough to make you want to have dinner with me and maybe later you would want me _elsewhere_?"

He chuckled at her remark. _'Elsewhere...'_ "Mhm, but you're still bleeding." He said. It wasn't that hard to tell with the lingering smell of blood.

"That did not stop you from enjoying my favour last night." She said_. 'Harlot, you sound like a bloody harlot! And it's perfect; I know this'll keep him pleased!'_

"Indeed it didn't." He said with the memory of her sliding her mouth up and down the length of his cock fresh in his mind. "So are you implying that you would do the same for me again, sweet?"

"Could I be possibly implying anything else, my lord?" she said answering in an almost riddle like way with her seductive tone and a quick quirk of her eyebrows.

"Very well, it should be most interesting." He said. "You've certainly surprised me; I didn't think you would ever offer. I suggest you do it more often..."

"I might very well do that... sometimes, only sometimes."

They made very little conversation after that and focused mostly on their meals but Elizabeth did bring up that she felt Mercer was being rude by not saying hello and goodbye and Beckett said he would talk to Mercer later.

Beckett finished before her, not eating all of what was on the plate. Drinking tea during the day limited how much he ate for dinner. He sat and watched her as he waited in anticipation for what would happen after she had finished her meal. He noticed that she wasn't sitting up straight and of course he had noticed prior to that, on many occasions, that her table etiquette would need refining. He made a quick note to himself that when they reached Port Royal he would have both of those problems rectified as soon as possible.

Whether it was because she had offered to do the same thing she hated being forced to do last night or it was just one of those nights where time progressed quickly; dinner went by faster than she wanted and suddenly Beckett was pouring her a glass of wine, something that had become almost like a ritual before she was lead to his quarters for their intimate relations.

Tonight he was positioned sitting at the edge of the bed and she was on the floor on her knees. She'd just finished giving him the same as last night, though this time he insisted that she learnt how to combine the use of her mouth with her hands, and of course to avoid having him in her mouth as often she gave more _hand_ than mouth, and he hadn't complained.

After doing his breeches up he lifted her chin and wiped some stray release over her moistened lips with his thumb, making her open her mouth to taste that final amount. She licked her lips and kept repeating the words 'whore' and 'slut' over and over again in her mind. She removed his hand from her chin and asked "Will that be all, my lord?"

"Yes." He replied. "I'd say that was the best effort so far sweet; an excellent combination of performance and _obedience_." He removed a stray tangle of hair from her face and pushed it behind her ear.

She thanked God that he was as satisfied as he was.

"You can stand up now you know... and you may wash your hand and rinse your mouth out if you want."

She replied with a rather stupid "Huh? - oh!" before she stood and fixed her skirts and then went over and to repeat the same mouth cleansing ritual as the previous night. She cleaned her hand and rinsed her mouth out removing the taste of his release, or as much as she could. She turned back to Beckett expecting to still see him where he was perched on the bed but he'd got into it instead. It seemed unusual that he slept on that one side of the bed when it was as big as it was. "Since you that first time you had me you haven't shared a bed with me for the whole night. Why is that?"

"Because if we shared a bed your body temperature would make getting a night's sleep in the warm weather all the more difficult." He said. "Why do you ask? Could it be that you actually want to?"

"Well... I always wanted to wake up in the morning after a passionate evening entangled in the sheets with my husband. It's not that I want to get in the same bed as _you_. It's because you are my husband." She replied.

"I see..." He said. "But whatever happened to hating every moment you had to spend with me and refusing to enjoy it when we are intimate?"

"I gave up. You honestly didn't think that I liked being abused when I refused or when I was difficult did you? Especially since what you did to me when I tried to escape that time... and without being abused I began to enjoy it, to some extent."

"And now you enjoy what I do to you so much that you offer to do it?" he asked.

"Yes... And I keep reminding myself it is a part of my station to make sure that you are _satisfied_." She said. _'And I've been guessing that fertilisation is too, it has to be the reason for the _determination._'_

"I had expected that it would take a little longer for you to get this far... but I can see that I have gravely underestimated you." He said.

'_I had expected to do it forever. I also underestimated myself...' _"I should be getting back to my room then. Goodnight, my lord."

"Goodnight," He said. "But would you mind blowing the candles out for me please?" he asked her, he sounded unusually kind.

She blew out the candles and without any further word she closed the door and left.

A few days passed and Elizabeth stopped menstruating. She was ordered to bath in the evening by Lord Beckett and then dress in her finest dress the following day. This however, was not so he could have her. By noon tomorrow they would have arrived in Port Royal; he wanted her to look presentable for when they went ashore. He told her this at dinner, and also that he would be going to the offices. He would send Mercer with her up to the mansion.

She woke the next morning, or almost noon as it now was, and dressed in a maroon dress and made herself look the best she could. She hid her diary in her dress and waited for the ship to make port. When the ship had finally made port Mercer came to inform her and the two of them made their way above deck. Elizabeth and Mercer left the docks in one carriage and Groves and James who had come down to the docks left in another with Lord Beckett.

As the carriage was weaving its way through the main streets of Port Royal on the way to the mansion, Elizabeth's stomach filled with butterflies and it seemed to get worse as they got closer. She looked at Mercer and smiled. "What do you think of Port Royal Mr. Mercer?" she asked trying to get rid of the awkward silence.

"It's no better than London." He said.

"What do you mean?" she asked in attempt to make conversation.

"In London it's cold an' damp. Here it's hot, humid and sticky." He replied.

His tone gave away that he was uninterested in talking to her. She guessed that he was doing it because Beckett had had a word with him. Oh yes, that's right he had said 'Afternoon' when he came to tell her that she was required above deck. So he must have had a word with him.

"At least the water doesn't reek as the Thames does." she laughed, but it was a rather fake one. She had heard from her father that the Thames had grown to smell unbearable, and so did most of London because the population and grown and the sewage couldn't cope. In fact, there was no sewage to speak of really.

"That is a blessing indeed. A' least the master lived on the outskirts where it was nice."

"I thought he might have." She said. No, she _knew_ he had.

The carriage came to a halt in front of the mansion and Elizabeth peered out the window and looked up at the large house that towered over her. She and Mercer were let out of the carriage by a footman who then went and opened the door to let them in.

She made her way up the steps anxiously. This was it. She was home... and surrounded by the memories that had been made there over the years. She swallowed hard as she was lead inside.

**More soon:** I have the next chapter started so I promise that it defiantly won't be a seven month wait again! Please review!


	8. Reward

**Chapter eight: **Reward**  
Characters: **Elizabeth, Mercer and Lord Beckett. There will also be an OC who makes a brief appearance in this chapter; Mrs. Henrietta Keating**  
Rating: **Hard M**  
Warnings: **sex**  
Word count: **3,850**  
Chapter summary: **This chapter takes off where the last chapter was left. Elizabeth finds herself tied to a chair... refining her table etiquette. She is later rewarded for being well behaved in an unexpected way.

The first thing Elizabeth noticed about her house was that it didn't feel like _her _house. Beckett really had gone all out in arranging for it to be re-furbished and by the looks of things he'd even had the tiles replaced, as he said he would, and the wallpaper too. She gave a quiet sigh. She was at first upset by the changes he'd made but then she was grateful – seeing it in the condition she left it in would've only warranted for her to get upset when the memories came back. But that wouldn't mean that they wouldn't.

After a short look around in the sitting, drawing and dining rooms she found herself back at the entrance again. She knew Mercer had been following her and had done well to ignore it, until now. "What?" she asked full of revulsion.

"He asked me to keep an eye on you." He answered with just as much disdain as Elizabeth. He obviously wasn't too happy about having to babysit her.

How could she be so stupid? Beckett had only let her roam the ship freely because there was no chance of escape out at sea, but on land there were plenty of opportunities so it made sense that he'd have someone watch over her all of the time. This reminded her not to let her guard down or plot or make an escape attempt yet; because she knew now that Beckett still didn't completely trust her. She secretly thanked Mercer for warning her even though he did so unintendedly.

"Fine, I'll be going up to my room now then." She said and then made for the stair case. She hoped that when she got up stairs and to her room that she'd be able to quickly shut and lock the door behind her – she really couldn't have Mercer follow her everywhere and she'd prefer to be alone in her room for a while.

Her plan failed however when Mercer made his way up the stairs quicker than she (her dress and shoes proving more difficult that she had remembered) and went ahead and opened her bedroom door. She followed and then went into her room – she accepted that she'd be stuck with him after all. He followed her in, shutting the door behind them.

Her room... it was the very same as she'd left it; the furniture was the same, the floor and walls were the same, it even smelt the same. She moved her head around to her right slowly as if expecting something horrible to be near the dressing screen. She put her hand to her chest out of relief that nothing was there; there had been where a pile of un-opened wedding gifts had sat the day she was supposed to marry Will...

Before she could wonder where all of the gifts had gone Mercer suddenly asked "Are we done inspecting now?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?" she asked.

"The master 'as arranged for a refining on your table manners and the woman who is going to teach yer' will be 'ere shortly." He answered.

"Oh..." she said, remembering what Beckett had said back aboard the ship. "That was quick..."

It was not long before Elizabeth found herself losing her patience with an old woman down stairs in the dining room – the woman who Beckett had sent to refine her table etiquette. 'Hindrance' instead of 'Henrietta' was what she felt like calling her. She was wearing far too much make up (a cake would have less decoration), a hat which was too large for her head but suited her brown dress which had a small floral design and ridiculously large frills. From what Elizabeth had observed in the past three hours, the woman was very straight forward with her arrogance and kept making comments which contrasted Elizabeth and the woman's daughter. She also insisted that she was called by her first name instead of Mrs. Keating because it made her feel old. Did she not realise that she was old?

Elizabeth was sat at the end of the table, tied to the back of the chair with the old woman's scarf to keep her shoulders back. She wondered what on earth possessed someone in Port Royal to wear a scarf in the middle of the day if at all – ever. She was made to show Henrietta which pieces of cutlery were to be used for what foods and how to hold and use them. She must have looked incredibly stupid tied to a chair with a bright orange scarf pretending to cut and eat food. She felt stupid and embarrassed because at some point Beckett had arrived and was watching his pet learn and kept her from doing or saying anything impolite to the old woman. Oh how he was enjoying this. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder if he'd hired her knowing all too well what she was like in order to test her patience.

When Henrietta decided that Elizabeth had done well enough she said goodbye whilst untying her. She replaced her scarf back around her neck and reminded Elizabeth to make sure she sat straight. "Remember m' dear - shoulders back."

Elizabeth put on a fake smile and said with even more fake kindness "I will, thank you for your time Henrietta."

The woman passed Mercer on her way out who gave her the money for her service.

During dinner later that night Elizabeth made sure she did everything the old woman had instructed her to do with the cutlery all the while making sure her posture was perfect – she did not want Beckett to think that he needed to bring Henrietta back. She was quite sure that if Henrietta were to return she wouldn't be able to contain her comments. When dinner ended Beckett complemented her and said "I'll require you tonight. Wait for me in my room... I may be a while though as I have a few things which require my attention in the study."

"Yes, of course, my lord," she said, and then as the servants began to clear away the dinner dishes, Elizabeth and Beckett stood and went their own ways.

She'd read a few erotic passages from books of the genre which she had stowed away in her hidden book collection in her room while she waited for her husband. It was the same collection where she hid her swashbuckling pirate adventure novels from the eyes of her father. She'd aroused herself in the hope it would make tonight's episode with her husband more comfortable and satisfying. Then again, it would please him too as he'd told her many times how much he appreciated her wetness, and that was something she disliked.

The candle that sat on the end table next to her chair had melted away a good three quarters of its original length over the hours that she'd been waiting for Beckett. It was in the early hours of the morning now. _'He must be _really_ busy tonight.' _

When Beckett finally did show up he seemed surprised by the fact that she was still awake and waiting for him, her presence startled him at first and he was quick to fix himself in hope she wouldn't have noticed. "I'd have thought you'd have gone to bed or fallen asleep while waiting."

Elizabeth smiled, he was here now and she could have this over and done with so she could go to bed. "That would just be pointless because we both know that you'd have woken me up. Why fall asleep when I know I'm only going to be woken? And besides, if you hadn't woke me up then that would've made what I did while I was waiting a complete waste..."

"I see... and what was it that you did while you waited?" he asked.

She gave him cheeky smile. "Well... I read some very _interesting_ material." She paused for a brief moment and then continued. "And while reading I made sure I was sitting correctly – speaking of which, please don't bring that old hag back again."

"As entertaining as her visit was, there won't be any need to bring her back, you should be fine as long as you do as she instructed." He said. After a few moments of silence he spoke again. "You know, your behaviour today was better than I'd hoped for..." he moved to stand in front of the chair. "I do believe a reward is in order..."

"Reward?" she asked.

"Stand," He commanded.

She stood without delay. It was no sooner than she'd opened her mouth to ask what he was doing that he'd lifted his finger to her lips to quieten her.

She remained silent as he slowly and gently removed her clothes. It struck her as odd, it wouldn't usually be this slow and certainly not gentle. Was this her reward? She could hardly see being intimate with him as a reward – it would be far from it. She would say something but he'd only stop her again so she didn't bother.

Once she was completely bare he commanded her to sit. Elizabeth obeyed but only after a short moment's hesitation. Her naked and warm body felt the cool of leather of the chair, it clung to her and it felt surprisingly nice, as if it were almost erotic.

Beckett lifted Elizabeth's legs one at a time and placed them so they hung over the arms of the chair. She became utterly shocked and embarrassed; it was uncomfortable and embarrassing for her to have her legs divided as such - with the apex between her legs on show in such an explicit way. "Uh, what are you doing?" she cried. Her checks began to represent her embarrassment.

He merely ignored her and got on his knees and pulled her hips forward so that the apex of her thighs came closer to the edge of the chair. Closer to his mouth... "Argh, please, no – don't," she cried, slapping both hands on the bottom of the chair simultaneously at her sides.

He lifted his head. "Why not? Is my reward not suitable?"

Her voice came uneasy out of her embarrassment. "A gift... would have... been nice."

"This is a gift... a gift of pleasure." He assured with a smirk.

"A gift that you also benefit from is hardly a gift." She remarked.

"Is there any better gift than a good wife who does as she is told? And a husband who would go out of his way to pleasure her and above his own desires to reward such?"

She couldn't argue with that, he even made it sound _genuine_ and as if he knew all too well that he hadn't given a spare thought about her desires until now. He'd never put her pleasure before his and she certainly had never expected him to. She remained silent, not knowing what to say and out of defeat.

"See pet, I _was_ thinking of you." And with that he moved his head toward her heated place.

Using one hand he pushed her leg back a bit to allow for greater exposure of her more colourful places. She blushed even more at his actions and her body began to anticipate what would come next with a gentle throbbing and tingling beginning in her moist, needy place.

He had her placed and now he could begin. He started at her by lightly brushing his lips and the very tip of his tongue over her outer lips. She flinched at the sensation, and at the new and rather wanton experience. He slowly slid his hand down her soft creamy thigh to her even softer hip and spaced his hand out so his thumb spread her entrance even wider while keeping a force on her leg so she wouldn't be able to squirm as much. At the same time Elizabeth grew even more excited.

Lifting his other hand to hold her other leg for balance he began to sample the more tender, colourful flesh of her inner lips with delicacy and frustrating slowness, then, teasingly, he moved upwards to circle her clit. She drew a sharp breath as the texture of his tongue soothed over her pleasure pearl and aroused her even further.

The change in her breathing encouraged him; he began to circle her with more pressure of which added to both her and his own pleasure. Then when she drew a moan his member hardened, pushing outwards at the front of his breeches. Adding an almost rough pressure to her clit by circling it harder he stopped for a second and changed to give her full licks which covered the area around her clit in a very slow teasing method.

The open window could not be blamed for the goose bumps which began to form all over her body neither was it the reason for her erect nipples. She let out a small chain of moans as the tingling all over her body took her over just as much as his tongue that was capturing her most moist and tender flesh did.

He moved his focus back to her entrance, this time he began to circle his tongue around slightly inside her. The satisfaction of his teasing tongue was becoming too much for her to handle - she wanted more but he was persistent on teasing her. She went to flinch again when he changed his movement from circling to wriggling from side to side but found that she could not.

She was really quite wet at this stage, and still he desired more so he still teased. He continued to slowly wriggle his curled tongue around and inside of her.

She really couldn't hold herself back any longer, this was, after all, the best she'd ever felt. She arched her back which caused Beckett's tongue to unintendedly enter her deeper. With the taste of her wetness well on his tongue he grew hungry for more and drew his tongue deeper; now swirling it around fast inside the centre of her pool of moisture. Elizabeth let out a moan as the upmost of satisfaction was granted. "Oh... Uh, oh," she cried.

For someone who didn't want this to begin with she was enjoying it plenty; Beckett made note. Enjoying her taste and the way his saliva mixed with her wetness in his mouth to form the most wonderful sensation he began to fasten his wriggling and swirling and then graduated into taking her fluids into his mouth and swallowing by lapping his tongue in and out of her wetness. The new movement was just as pleasurable as the last and she let him know with a sudden increase in her moaning .The pitch she now made was also much higher. She arched her back further. The intensity of her enjoyment was felt all over her body in another fixated wave; it ran through her veins like wild fire through a dry paddock – quick and intense.

He continued his hungry and almost violent movements until there was hardly any moisture left for him to feed on. This was when his tongue began to ease and he eventually stopped its caress upon her. Elizabeth lowered her back and looked down to see what he would do next. There had to be a next. Didn't there? She was on the verge of a climax he wouldn't just leave her if this was supposed to be a reward. Would he?

He licked his lips and then stood and unhooked her legs from the arms of the chair. He then took a step back and admired what he had created. Her cheeks were very flushed and her skin was painted in very noticeable goose bumps. Her hair was placed as if creatively designed to arouse; over her smooth shoulders splayed across her collar bone and top of her breasts. Her breathing was still heavy so her chest rose up and down with a slow pace but with a large gap between her breaths causing her breasts to very noticeably rise and fall.

As she anticipated his next move she noticed there was a very evident amount of pre-cum at the front of his breeches with an even more noteworthy bulge.

"And there you were complaining. Now look at you." He finally broke the silence with his remark and a smug look upon his face.

When she managed to control her breathing she moistened her mouth and responded. "Yes, yes indeed."

"What's the matter?" he asked, not out of concern but of curiosity.

She could have said 'nothing' but at the moment she was far too intent on figuring out a way to get full satisfaction. She needed to lure him into sleeping with her... "You're aroused my lord." She stood and made her way over to him with her weakened knees. "How about you put it to good use..." she suggested and then playfully reached for the button of his breeches.

"Is that your provocation talking or are you willingly able to please me?" He asked.

She thought for a moment, this was her chance to get some much wanted satisfaction, she could not mess this up now. She came up with something and smiled lustfully and responded in a seductive tone "You rewarded me... I think now it's my turn." She took both his arms and pulled him over towards the bed and was surprised to learn that he did not object.

"If you wish to seed me you'll have to be quick... judging by the look of you." She said as she let go of his hands and sat on the edge of his bed. She lent backwards and then propped herself up with her elbows. He couldn't resist_ that_ now could he? He removed his wig and breeches. Without any time, he didn't bother to remove his waist coat or undershirt and lent forward to take his prize by the hips. He then, with skill, turned her over and pulled down closer to the edge of the bed. She not expecting this rash movement pulled on the sheets of the bed as she was dragged down towards him.

He moved her legs apart and stood in-between them, he didn't even bother to step out of his breeches. He placed his aroused member inside of her, slowly with the head of his manhood just as one final tease. He moved his hands to get a good grip on her hips and then he pursued his arousal further inside of her until he was completely inside. She let out a plea for more and that was when he began to thrust her at a fast pace. She was warmer than usual, wetter than usual and for those reasons better than usual. He was enjoying this never before seen side of Elizabeth so much that he didn't even consider questioning it; he just continued to pound her until they both cried out loudly in their release. He came first and then she followed shortly after; the final catalyst being his hot release shot up deep inside of her.

Beckett replaced his breeches and sat on the edge of the bed next to Elizabeth. She made an attempt to push herself up but instead she ended up remaining where she was; she too was weakened by the aftermath of her release. Beckett noticed her movement and commented. "Can't get up, pet?"

"No! What's the matter with me?" She said her voice full of concern.

He gave a single chuckle. "You surely didn't expect to get up right after _that_ did you?"

"You mean... it's supposed to happen?" she asked.

"Of course..." he said, he sounded rather puzzled by her questions. Had she not felt _this_ good up until now?

"Well, I wouldn't know what to expect... I've never really done that before, you've never let me..." she said.

"All the more reason to appreciate it; I don't have the time to play with you like that pet. Did you not notice all the time and effort which went into it?" he said.

"Oh... I see..." she said.

"When you can move, get up and get into bed." He said before getting up. He walked around to the other side of the bed, which he must have thought he was capable of but wasn't because he was having a hard time of it.

She somehow found the strength to prop herself up and turn her head. "You want me to stay?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face. She never _stayed_.

"You're quiet welcome to this evening; just don't expect it to happen all the time." He said as he pulled down the sheets on his side of the bed.

It wasn't until he was comfortable in the bed that she found she had the strength, or at least, sort of, to walk over to get her gown. She went to walk over to it but was stopped. "You don't need that."

And with that Elizabeth got into her side of the bed. She was no sooner in bed when Beckett moved closer to her, placed her head on his chest he kissed her hair. "You're going to need a bigger reward."

"Again?" she exclaimed.

"No - as much as you've appreciated it and I've enjoyed it. I'll buy you something, maybe something you can amuse yourself with," He said. He drew a deep breath and then continued. "You know, I was planning on taking you to watch the hanging of the pirates tomorrow... Including Will and Mr. Sparrow but I've decided not to now because it was intended as punishment... and you don't need punishing anymore."

"Oh..." she said. He didn't expect this response; he expected that she would correct him like before. '_Captain Jack Sparrow.'_

She'd almost forgotten about James' warning about that. She was glad she didn't have to go anymore because she hadn't thought of a plan to save Will or the others and even if she had she'd be going against her promise to Will. _'__You go ahead and marry Beckett, live Elizabeth.'_ His words echoed in her mind. If she did have a good plan than getting caught would certainly break that promise. She could not save them. She tried to keep herself from thinking about it in attempt to refrain from crying but she couldn't. She began to weep.

Beckett lifted her chin and he made direct eye contact with her. "You're crying. Why?"

She couldn't tell Beckett so she lied. "I'm happy." She said before quickly burning her face into his cravat.

He said nothing to her and just stroked her, suspecting she was lying. He knew she was probably thinking about Turner and he idly stroked her to comfort her until she fell asleep.

In the morning Elizabeth woke in almost the exact position that she'd fallen asleep in – still wrapped around Beckett, using him as a pillow. She removed herself from the position and sat up and looked over at the clock - he should have left for work hours ago.


End file.
